Who I Really Am
by Saryen
Summary: Hazel Potter must discover magic and learn to defend herself before Lord Voldemort and his Deatheaters take over Hogwarts. Will she ever earn Harry's trust?
1. The Truth, The Sorting, and Hogwarts Sch...

uChapter One - The Truth, The Sorting, and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry/u  
  
"No, no! Not Harry, please not Harry!" A woman screamed into the night. The woman had flaming red hair and emerald eyes. Emerald eyes that were full of fear, hatred, and confusion all at once in the dim light.  
  
"Kill me! Take me, not him! Please, not Harry!" She continued silent tears flowing down her face. Her face was set, as though she was making the hardest decision of her life.  
  
"Foolish woman!" A second voice laughed. His voice was cold and mirthless. And his looks matched the evil voice exactly. His red eyes were burning with hatred, and his pale skin glowed where the wand that he held in his hand shone.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" The man's voice said. Then the man turned to the little boy that was sitting in his cradle.  
  
"So," the man whispered. "Harry Potter. Why don't you hold nice and still, maybe even stand up straight so Lord Voldemort can take care of you just like he did with your daddy. With your mother and father gone there is no hope for you Harry Potter. The girl did not inherit the power but she insisted that I kill her too. Ha! Your father thought he could hold me off did he?"  
  
Lord Voldemort drew his wand to the tip of Harry's nose and poked it. "Goodbye Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra."  
  
A flash of green light illuminated the sky briefly as the curse found its victims. But unknown to Lord Voldemort, the sacrifice "that foolish woman" had made, saved the two babies now unconscious in the cradle, but the woman had only meant to save one of the two babies that night.  
  
What was meant to be the end was really the beginning.  
  
Hazel Jones snapped open her eyes, drenched in cold sweat, and rubbed her forehead. She felt the lightning shaped scar on her forehead. Her parents, Mary and John Jones, has told her that when she was six or seven months old she had found a pair of scissors and before they found her she had massacred her own forehead. Mary often said she should have seen this as a sign of things to come. Hazel found interest in many things that were odd for fifteen-year-old girls to like. Swords, knives, ancient Roman battles, Egyptian "magic", and other such things. At least her history teacher was thrilled.  
  
Her parents had always told her to stay out of trouble, but that was easier said than done. When she was eleven she had been playing in the older students' chemistry lab and broke their competition equipment. The second she had realized that she was going to be in a lot of trouble they started putting themselves back together. She never went back in there again. Whenever she was told to go in there she claimed that it was haunted and refused to go. If they insisted she covered her ears with her hands and hummed loudly.  
  
But that wasn't the only time something odd happened to her. It continued to happen at least once a month until she turned twelve. The kids that were in her grade already didn't like her, but when odd things started happening they started rumors that she was possessed, that there were ghosts that haunted her, and that she was a witch. When she told her parents about the last rumor they had seemed a little panicky. They had told her (rather oddly in high-pitched voices) not to worry and that the whole thing would blow over when the kids found something else to talk about. She had always thought there was something that they hadn't told her, but it was then and there that she made a silent promise to herself that she would find out what it was before she turned thirteen.  
  
And here she was, fifteen years old and no closer to finding out what it was than she was to walking on water. They were hiding something from her, and whatever it was they were hiding it well.  
  
Hazel was no ordinary girl. Her jet-black hair reached her knees and was a disaster, always. She wore glasses that were black-rimmed circles with tape around the bridge of the nose from walking into walls and tripping, of which she usually did once a day. She was far too skinny to look healthy and she had a lightning bolt scar on her forehead.  
  
Hazel stared at her ceiling. What was with her freaky dreams? She had been having odd dreams ever since she was eleven. Her first one had been a dream of the boy named Harry Potter going to a magical school. She had seen him go to a place to buy things and then rode on a train to get to the weird school. Once the train had started she had woken up. But the next night her dreams picked up exactly where they had left off the previous night. She had even had a crazy night where she had dreamed that him and his friends a boy with flaming red hair and a girl with bushy brown hair had rescued this shiny red stone thing. It was like a never-ending dream that happened directly after the last one.  
  
Then the next year the same thing happened. But that year the boy and his friends had gone through a completely different set of adventures. But it was always the same people, the same train, and the same place. She couldn't remember everything, like the names of the places that they went to or saw. But there was one name that seemed to be stuck in her head, but it was preposterous. She had the compelling feeling that the castle that they returned to every year was called Hogwarts.  
  
Then the year she turned thirteen the dreams had begun again, but this time, as was last year, the dreams held different adventures for the three characters of her dreams. It was like a never-ending story. It was as-if the people were actually real and she was just watching what happened in their lives like her mother watched soap operas.  
  
And then, just last year, the dreams had taken a more dramatic turn. That year more serious things happened in the "story" inside of her mind. And the death of four people had been revealed. Evil had become strong again and the people of power had not believed it.  
  
"Hazel, you're cracking. Is insanity possible at fifteen?" Hazel muttered to herself. It wasn't the first time she had thought she was insane. It just made more sense to assume that now.  
  
Hazel glanced out the window and saw a white owl flying outside of her window. Owls were never here, let alone at sunrise. And she had never seen a white owl anywhere before.  
  
"Just when I thought my life couldn't get any weirder." Hazel said as she rolled her eyes. Then Hazel gasped and jumped out of bed to look out the window again. As her eyes followed the owl she furrowed her brow. The owl seemed familiar, but she didn't know where she had seen it before. Then she looked closer and noticed that the owl had an envelope attached to it leg. It flew into a window about four houses down. Hazel shrugged.  
  
"Odd," she murmured. "Owls don't normally have letters attached to their legs, do they?" Hazel shook her head vigorously. "You're hallucinating Jones." She assured herself as she climbed back into bed. She caught a look at herself in her mirror and rolled her eyes once more.  
  
"I'm wearing an old tee-shirt, My hair is more messed up than normal, my hair is down to my knees whoever heard of that, my glasses are on crooked and they have tape on the bridge of my nose, and I have bags under my eyes. I need to go to sleep." And with that Hazel lay back down and closed her eyes.  
  
Hazel couldn't get back to sleep now that she was awake. She lay there thinking about her dreams, and wondering what they meant.  
  
I could make a killer book series with these dreams. Hazel thought to herself smugly. I could be rich, famous, and still insane.  
  
She began to feel hungry, so Hazel got up from bed again and put on her black robe. Yawning as she walked down the stairs, Hazel tied her robe loosely to her waist and slumped into the kitchen.  
  
She yanked at the freezer door until it opened and pulled out a box of waffles. Yanking open the package she pulled out two of them and threw the rest onto the island. She shoved the waffles into the toaster and pushed the lever down but it popped back up. Undaunted, Hazel pushed the lever down again, and yet again it popped back up. Hazel growled in annoyance and pushed the lever down and held it down for a few seconds before she let go but to no prevail. No sooner had she let go of the lever it popped back up again. Thoroughly frustrated now she yanked open the silverware drawer grabbed a fork and slammed it shut again. The sound to tinkling silverware echoed around the kitchen. Hazel shoved the fork into the groove where the lever on the toaster moved up and down. As long as the fork was there it couldn't pop open.  
  
Hazel slouched over to the table and sat down. She began thinking about the dream she had had when she woke up. Normally she wrote down what had happened in her dreams, but she had had this dream countless times and already had it recorded. She had been having this dream ever since she could remember. Mary and John had told her that when she was just a tiny baby she would awake with cold sweat running down her cheeks mixed with tears.  
  
Hazel was jolted back to reality by the smell of smoke.  
  
"My waffles!" Hazel ran over to the toaster and saw that she would be an idiot to take the fork out now. She could see that it was red hot just like the wires that were inside of the toaster. A small flame burst out from the top of the toaster and hit the cabinet above leaving a black mark where it hit.  
  
Hazel leapt to the cabinet doors under her sink where the fire extinguisher was and pulled the pin. She pushed the button. Nothing happened. She pushed it again. Turning it over she saw that the valve on the fire extinguisher said 'Empty'.  
  
Hazel growled in frustration and stood up too fast and banged her head on the cabinet. She swore and rubbed her head. She turned the sink on and grabbed the hose nozzle. She swept it along the toaster, napkins (which had also decided to burn), cabinet, and fork.  
  
Finally the fire was out, the toaster was charred pretty badly, the cabinet above had soot all over the bottom of it, the napkins were gone, and Hazel was wide awake. The adrenalin in her veins was calming down now. Hazel had been unaware of the amount of noise she had made until she heard Mary call out to her.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked groggily from upstairs.  
  
"Nothing much." Hazel said. "I just set the toaster on fire."  
  
"Oh, ok." She said, yawning. "That's nice honey." with another yawn Mary rolled over and went back to sleep.  
  
Hazel massaged her forehead thinking about how much trouble she would be in tomorrow when Mary realized what she had done.  
  
"If only I knew some magic." She said with a half grin. "Abra Kadabra! Alakazam! Iggy Wiggy Squiggy! Oculus Reparo!" Hazel watched as a jet of yellow light traveled from her hand to the toaster. Slapping her other hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, she watched as the toaster, cabinet, and napkins fixed themselves.  
  
Hazel, with wide eyes, said, "Where did that come from?" and then she promptly fainted.  
  
"Hazel, Hazel honey, Hazel." the world was spinning, and Mary's voice seemed slurred. Hazel opened her eyes and noticed right away that her glasses weren't on. The world was out of focus and she had a horrible headache.  
  
"What happened?" she asked trying to sit up but Mary pushed her back down.  
  
"We don't know what happened, but when we woke up you were lying here on the floor."  
  
Memories of what happened earlier flooded back into her mind. She had set the toaster or fire and then she had put it out with the sink. And then she had. she had. fixed it with magic? No, that couldn't be right. Maybe she had better tell Mary and John about what happened. They could take her to the doctor and see if she was hallucinating. "Mum? Dad? Can I tell you what happened earlier?" Hazel asked. She wasn't sure if this was a good idea.  
  
"Of course you can dear!" Her mother assured her.  
  
"Well. at like three this morning I came downstairs to make a waffle and the lever wouldn't stay down so I shoved a fork into the groove. I forgot about it and it started a fire. By time I got the fire put out the toaster was charred, the napkins weren't even there anymore, and the cabinet was covered in soot.  
  
"Then I joked about how I wished I knew magic," when she said magic Mary and John looked startled. "And I said magic words from fairy tales, you know, like Alakazam! Then I suddenly said 'Oculus Reparo' and - and the toaster fixed its self. Four hours ago that," she pointed to the toaster, cabinet, and napkins. "Was charred waste."  
  
Mary and John shared a look. A look that Hazel read as, "should we tell her?"  
  
John took a deep breath.  
  
"Well. where do I start?" He laughed nervously. "From the beginning I suppose. Hazel, you're name is not Hazel Jones. We don't know what your last name is. But we do know your first name is Hazel." Mary wrung her hands and was obviously stalling for time.  
  
"How-" Hazel began, but was cut off by John.  
  
"Let me explain. Fourteen years ago, Mary and I were taking the subway to my head quarters. I work for the FBI and they had a case they wanted me to go on for a six-month mission. I insisted that I be able to bring my wife along and they finally gave in. We were on a journey to a place called Godric's Hollow, a place that was home to many people that are different from Mary and I.  
  
"Anyway, we were there and Mary had wandered off and I could not find her. As I was on my search for her I came across a house and I saw a man, covered in a black cloak walk into the house. Screams and yells soon followed his arrival. I was under strict orders to stay away from any contact with people wearing cloaks. I don't know why, but that's what my boss instructed me. Then the house began crumbling around him but any pieces that fell towards him just bounced off as though there was an invisible shield made around him. He killed the adults that were there, and he tried to kill you and another little boy that was there.  
  
"When he pointed at the cradle with some long, stick thing that you and the boy were in a flash of green light lit up the sky just like it had when he killed the adults, but this time as the light hit you and the boy, it bounced off and hit the man instead. He disappeared, and the house finished crumbling. It was then that I saw Mary darting over to the cradle that I had just seen, and she grabbed you. I yelled to her and she ran to me tearfully."  
  
Now it was Mary's turn speak.  
  
"I told John that there was another baby there in the cradle and if he would just let me take the other baby they would grow up together how they were meant to be. But he said no, and that I had caused enough damage already."  
  
"So I guess what we're saying," John said. "Is. Hazel, you're a witch."  
  
Hazel blinked. This could not be real. This was not real. She was dreaming. She pinched herself and it hurt. She pinched herself again and again until she had a red welt where she had been pinching.  
  
"S-seriously?" she asked once she had found her voice.  
  
"But, no. No, why do you assume that I-I'm a witch? I mean, just because you saw magic, and people with what I assume are wands, and-" Hazel broke off as she realized that she was being both stupid and irrational.  
  
"Yes." John said. "We have one more thing for you. Well, we think it's for you but we're not sure. WE can't read it. We've tried countless times. So, here, why don't you read it?"  
  
John walked over to his desk and pulled out an envelope addressed in green ink. She took one look at the name on the envelope and dropped it.  
  
It said:  
  
Ms. Hazel Potter  
  
"It-it's the girl from my dream, the girl that that man tried to kill, the girl.she's - she's m-m-me. isn't she?" Hazel asked.  
  
Slowly Mary nodded as though it was painful for her to admit that she had lied. Hazel thought she was going to faint again. So the little girl in the cradle in her dream was she, which meant that somebody had tried to kill her with a curse, but it had failed.  
  
"Will I get to go to the school?" Hazel asked gesturing to the open letter that she held in her hand.  
  
"We have no idea, honey." Mary said. "We don't know the who, what, where, when, why. We don't even know if they would take you now, because, well, look at the date on the letter."  
  
Hazel turned over the piece of parchment and looked at the date in the corner. 7-31-1991 and a hot surge of anger took possession over her emotions.  
  
"This is four years old." Hazel whispered coldly clearly pronouncing every syllable. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? How long were you expecting to keep this a secret from me? Forever? You should have told me when you got this! I'm not a baby. I could have handled the fact that I am a witch! Those other people that are there now, THEY were all told when they were eleven." Hazel was only whispering, but for all of the anger present in her voice she may as well have been yelling.  
  
"Hazel, honey, we-"  
  
"I hate you." With that she swept out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs into her room. She flopped onto her bed and buried her head under the pillow so she wouldn't hear Mary and John trying to talk to her.  
  
Then, without warning, she felt something slither across her back. She flipped around and grabbed the thing with one hand, and the other hand was balled up into a fist. It was then that she took her first look at what had just crawled across her back.  
  
"Helllllo." It hissed. "Do you undersssstand me, or are you another sssstupid human?"  
  
She was dreaming, she had to be because the snake had just talked and snakes DO NOT TALK.  
  
"Hello." Hazel said uncertainly to the snake. "What - what's your name?" she nearly jumped back when she listened to her voice. She hadn't spoken words as she had thought she had, but hissed and spat like the snake.  
  
"My name issss Sssslither. Would you releasssse me?"  
  
"How original." Hazel muttered. Then, talking louder so the snake could hear, she said, "Well, it was nice meeting you, and well, goodbye." She walked over to the window and dropped the snake out the window and into the window box. Then she slammed the window shut.  
  
"Okay." She said as she sank down the wall. "I'm officially freaked out now."  
  
She had known that when she said she hated them she would have to apologize some time, so she didn't know why it came as such a surprise when her conscience told her it was time to go say sorry. She just didn't know what to say, after all, she had just told the people that loved her she hated them, but why should she hate them? They had rescued her from a crumbling house, taken her into their own home, and they had raised her with love, trust, and care.  
  
She obviously had been angry, but now that she wasn't so angry anymore she felt horrible.  
  
"But how do you apologize to someone that you've just said you hate without getting in trouble?" Hazel asked herself.  
  
Reluctantly Hazel opened her door and trudged down the stairs.  
  
"Mary?" Hazel called quietly. "John? Please answer me. Mary, John?" Nobody answered. Hazel figured that this was because she had been so rude to them and they were showing the same respect to her. She thought this was a little childish though, even for them.  
  
Walking around the whole of the downstairs, Hazel concluded that either they were hiding, or they weren't in the house.  
  
This puzzled her because they would have told her if they were going to leave the house, wouldn't they? But a nasty voice of reason laughed nastily in the back of her mind.  
  
"Oh, shut up." She muttered.  
  
Suddenly the back door opened, causing Hazel to jump.  
  
"Haze-" John began to yell, but then his eyes set on Hazel and he stopped. "Hazel." John said again, this time quieter. "There is someone out here who wants to see you."  
  
Who, my mother? Hazel thought scornfully, but all the same she followed John out the door. He led her around the house and out the gate. Hazel wondered what was going on. He continued walking towards the forest. She wondered what needed this much secrecy. Were Mary and John going to leave her in the forest? Still following John, Hazel dug into her pockets for anything that she could leave a trail with, like Hansel and Gretel.  
  
The contents of her pockets were two pennies, a tissue, a bent nail, and a bracelet. The bracelet had the initials HLP on it and up until today she had wondered what HLP stood for. She held the bracelet in her hand. It was her only key to her past that she had, other than the things Mary and John told her, and her dreams even though, she thought, my dreams aren't that reliable now are they?  
  
John took a sharp turn left and Hazel almost didn't notice. Silently she told herself to pay more attention. If they were trying to get her lost, then they were going to have to work hard at it.  
  
Hazel was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice that John had stopped, and she walked into him.  
  
"Sorry." she muttered. Then she took her first good look at where they were and who was there. Mary and John were there, but there were also two other people that she didn't recognize. They wore robes and pointed hats. The man had a long beard and half moon glasses. The eyes behind the glasses were twinkling and she felt like she was getting x-rayed. The woman had her mahogany hair tied up in a bun under her hat, and she also had glasses, but her eyes didn't show the same twinkling as the man's. Her eyes looked worried and she seemed to be anxious about something. The woman, as well as the man's face, was set, as though they had to admit something that they didn't want to. It was the same facial expression that was on Mary's face.  
  
Hazel, still staring at the two strangers in front of her, said, "Who are you?"  
  
"Hazel." Mary hissed. "Be polite."  
  
The man smiled at her and then he spoke. His voice was that of a wise man; it sounded like it had seen the many moods, great sadness, joy, jealousy, hate, love, and many more.  
  
"I," the man said. "Am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have a longer and fancier title, but I fear I have forgotten most of it." The woman next to him rolled her eyes at that, but Hazel almost managed to smile. "Oh dear, where are my manners?" Dumbledore asked suddenly. "This is Professor Minerva McGonagall." Dumbledore said, gesturing towards the woman next to him.  
  
"A pleasure to meet you Miss Hazel Potter." She said. "We are here to inform you about your education in the magical world, and to inform you of. other things. Do you have any questions for us?"  
  
Millions of questions exploded in Hazel's head. What is my full name? Who are you really? Is this some kind of joke? Why are you here right now? But before she could stop herself, Hazel blurted out.  
  
"Do I have any family left? There was. a boy.in my dream. and the guy in the black cloak tried to kill him and I, but it didn't work. Is the boy still alive?" Hazel mentally slapped herself. It was a dream, it wasn't real. There was no boy, was there? McGonagall and Dumbledore shared a look. She wasn't sure what this one meant, but it seemed they were contemplating what to tell her.  
  
"Well. Ms. Potter." McGonagall began. "That is a matter beyond our hands. We have no authority to tell you."  
  
"Kay. Um, Do I have a full name, like a middle name?"  
  
Dumbledore's smile returned and he nodded once. "Yes. Your full name is Hazel Lily Potter." Then he added. "And a fine woman Lily was. Brave and full of life. She would have made a fine mother. No, no, let me rephrase that. She made a fine mother."  
  
Her breath was uneven now, as Dumbledore mentioned Lily. "Lily - Lily was my mother, wasn't she?" It was more of a statement than a question.  
  
"Yes." McGonagall whispered. It looked like she was going to cry. "This is probably none of my business, but, what's wrong?" McGonagall wiped her eyes and smiled faintly at Hazel. A smile that Hazel would later learn was very rare.  
  
"Nothing is wrong my dear, nothing that can be fixed anyway. I'm sure that you have more questions. Go ahead, ask away."  
  
Hazel sat in silence. Did she really trust these people? Was it just a big joke that Mary and John had cooked up? But then how could she explain all of the things that had been happening? There really wasn't any other way to explain the strange happenings, and everything fit in. The dreams.the magic.  
  
Suddenly another question sparked in her head, and like before, she couldn't stop it from spilling out of her mouth.  
  
"Sir, if you don't mind, how old are you?" Hazel gave herself an odd look.  
  
"No, no, of course I don't mind. I am 195 years old. Now, if you don't mind I shall be taking you Hogwarts."  
  
"Um. How are we going to get there? Isn't it like really far away?"  
  
"Yes, you're right. I am going to open a vortex."  
  
"A vortex?" Hazel echoed.  
  
Dumbledore nodded and drew a long, thin piece of wood. Muttering under his breath, Dumbledore began to wave his wand at odd intervals. When he was quite finished, there was a little "tornado" of color. Dumbledore turned to Mary and John.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Is it alright if I take Hazel to Hogwarts?" Mary nodded tearfully.  
  
Hazel looked back at Mary again and noted that she looked miserable. Sighing silently, Hazel walked over to them, and hugged them. As they hugged, Hazel said, "I'm sorry." She felt like she needed to say more, but found that that was enough.  
  
Releasing Mary and John she waved. Then she walked back over to Dumbledore, and he was smiling. He gestured for her to walk into the "tornado" of color and Hazel walked into it.  
  
It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. The world was spinning and she seemed to be upside down when quite suddenly it stopped. But the sensation in her stomach did not stop for quite a long time.  
  
Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived shortly after and McGonagall walked briskly out.  
  
"I shall be right back." Dumbledore said.  
  
With that Dumbledore walked out and Hazel got a good view of Dumbledore's office. A number of curious silver instruments puffed merry little wisps of smoke from various spindle-legged tables. Many beautiful pictures lined the walls and, with a start, Hazel realized all the subjects in the pictures were looking curiously at her, several of them leaving their frames to whisper to their neighbors. A decrepit-looking bird stood miserably in a golden cage next to the door, and cheeped morosely at her.  
  
Hazel reached out to touch the bird and the bird burst into flames. Hazel jumped back and had a stunned look on her face.  
  
"I'm dead." Hazel muttered. Just then Dumbledore walked in. "Sir! Sir! I don't know what happened but your-your bird well.um." Hazel stopped, looked at Dumbledore then added weakly - "Exploded?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled and his beard quivered with amusement. "Ah, Miss Potter, my bird did indeed explode. Yet, it was his time to go anyway."  
  
"It-it was?" Hazel asked uncertainly.  
  
"Yes, and judging by your reaction you did not know that Fawks is a Phoenix. This particular Phoenix bursts into flames once every three years or so. Curious. I find it odd that your." Dumbledore suddenly trailed off not finishing his sentence.  
  
"My what Professor? My what?" Hazel said insistently.  
  
"Never mind Miss Potter. You shall soon find out I expect. Now, mind you none of the other teachers know who you are, so it shall come as a bit of a shock to them when I introduce you as Hazel Potter."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well," said Dumbledore. He paused as though trying to think of an evasive answer to her question, again. "Wasn't it a bit of a shock for you when you learned that your name was Hazel Potter?"  
  
"Yes," Said Hazel. "I suppose." Then she muttered under her breath, "But it's MY name, not theirs. I have the right to be shocked when I find out that I'm not who I think I am, I think."  
  
Dumbledore walked out of his office once more leaving Hazel alone with everything in his office.  
  
When Dumbledore returned he was followed by what looked like 50 people.  
  
"These are the Hogwarts Professors, Hazel." Hazel gulped and nodded. "Why don't you have a seat while I introduce you to everyone Hazel?"  
  
As Hazel took her seat Dumbledore began introducing teachers. Was she going to have to memorize all of these names as well? "Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration teacher, as you know, Professor Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House and Charms teacher, Professor Vector-" Dumbledore continued right until he got to the last teacher. "Ah, and Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions teacher." Since Dumbledore had finished talking several tight knots of teachers began talking. Hazel looked at Professor Snape.  
  
Professor Hook-nosed-greasy-haired-slime ball, Hazel thought. As Hazel was looking at him, Professor Snape looked at her too, he had a thoughtful expression on his face for a second then turned away.  
  
"Everyone," Dumbledore said in a slightly raised voice, which silenced the talking teachers. "I would like to introduce to you Miss Hazel Potter."  
  
The room went dead silent and if Hazel hadn't been so worried about what was going to happen, she would have made cricket noises. Hazel also noticed that Professor Snape wrinkled his nose and turned away in disgust.  
  
"Surely you are lying, Dumbledore." A misty-eyed teacher said. Hazel looked closely at the teacher. It looked like Professor Trelawney. How did I know that? Hazel asked herself. "There is no such being in recorded history!" She was using what Hazel thought was a fake accent to make her voice sound more - more something.  
  
"Since when did you become an expert on history?" The ghost professor snapped. His name was Professor Binns.  
  
"Since I began studying it!" Professor Trelawney said indignantly. Her voice had lost the "lust" and was now perfectly normal. "I still say this is a lie, Dumbledore, a trick made to tease the wizarding world." And with that she picked up he many skirts and swiftly walked out.  
  
Noticing this the rest of the teachers left in small groups, talking to each other and pointing at Hazel.  
  
Hazel sighed. Being accepted was going to be harder than she thought.  
  
She had too many questions trapped in her head, and she needed to talk to someone. She knew two of the teachers and Dumbledore. Mind settling on talking to Dumbledore, she began to run down the endless corridors.  
  
After fifteen minutes of searching (and worrying) Hazel found the two gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office, and most possibly his house.  
  
"Password?" Said a raspy voice. Hazel jumped and nearly fell down. The gargoyle had talked. She was going to have to get used to this whole talking statuary thing.  
  
"Er.this is important.could I get in without the password?" Hazel asked, with great difficulty owing to the second gargoyle that was flexing his muscles and smoothing them down again.  
  
"No." Said the same gargoyle. She remembered from her dream that the password to Dumbledore's office seemed to be candies.  
  
"Ok, um, lemon drop." "No." "Fizzing Whizbee." "No." "Fudge Ice." "No." "Blood Pops." "No." "Gummy Yummy Mud." "No." "Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans." "No." "Cauldron Cake." "No." "Chocolate Frog." "No." "Licorice Wand." "No." "Drooble's Best Blowing Gum." "No." "Pumpkin Pastie." "No."  
  
Hazel was quite taken aback by her knowledge of these candies for she had never had nor heard of them before.  
  
"Um. Cockroach Cluster?" Hazel ventured, and to her immense surprise the gargoyle sprang up and moved over to allow her in.  
  
"Um, thanks." Hazel said. It was then and only then that she looked up and saw the hook nosed teacher, Professor Snape glaring down upon her.  
  
"What are you doing Miss Pot- Jones?" He asked. His voice was barely over a whisper.  
  
"Trying to find the Headmaster, Sir." Hazel asked, trying to keep dislike out of her voice.  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"Because I have an important message for him and I would like to talk to him." Hazel said slowly. "And why were you in his office? Is he in there or do you often look in various offices, or-" Hazel stopped abruptly because Snape's eyes were narrowed into slits and he was glaring at her.  
  
"If you are suggesting that I am unauthorized to go into the headmaster's office you are severely mistaken. I will see you in detention on the first day of school for your sharp mouth." With that he walked away and Hazel frowned. Was it fair to give out detention before school started? She wasn't quite sure. But she was sure that he was not her favorite teacher, he seemed to hate her.  
  
Hazel slapped herself mentally. She was supposed to be looking for Dumbledore, not snipping about Snape, though it was fun.  
  
Hazel leaned onto the wall and sunk down it. Why was everything she did something that caused trouble? She didn't try to cause the trouble, it just happened! She closed her eyes and remembered all of the fun things John and Mary used to do with her, so they weren't her blood parents, they were the parents that were there for her, and that is what should have been important.  
  
"Miss Jones?" A voice said from overhead. Hazel snapped open her eyes. It was Dumbledore.  
  
"Professor! I'm sorry, I was remembering things that have happened, er, I need to talk to you.."  
  
"I assumed so." He said. "Because Professor Snape was very angry, muttering about 'that damn Potter girl'. So naturally I assumed that you had had something to do with it."  
  
"Are you going to tell me anything about my brother?"  
  
"Not today, Miss Jones. I needed to find you, you must begin your tests, and if my theory is correct."  
  
"Right Professor, what theory?"  
  
"It is not of importance. Please follow me to the Great Hall."  
  
So Hazel followed Dumbledore down to the Great Hall. Hazel felt as though she would NEVER remember all of the passages and turns and staircases and trick steps. Hazel felt as though she was walking through her dreams again, and she seemed to be pretty good at remembering her way.  
  
After nearly fifteen minutes of walking around the school, Hazel and Professor Dumbledore emerged in a room that Hazel had never imagined, even in her wildest dreams. The ceiling wasn't a ceiling. It was the sky, or at least that's what it looked like. And there were golden plates on every table!  
  
"Hazel, if you please?" Professor McGonagall said sharply, jerking Hazel out of her daydreaming. "I teach Transfiguration and I am here to test you to see what year you belong in. Don't be discouraged if you land among the first years, because after all, you never knew that you were magical."  
  
"Alright, what do I need to do first?" Hazel asked, sounding more confident than she felt. She wasn't really paying as much attention as she should have been. But who could pay attention when they were learning thousands of things all in 24 hours?  
  
"You will turn this beetle into a button." Professor McGonagall said brandishing a golden beetle. "This test is to see how well you can do without assistance, so I am not to tell you what to do and you will do the best you can."  
  
Hazel's eyes got as big as tennis balls. "You're not going to tell me how to do it?" Professor McGonagall shook her head.  
  
"You are to do this on your own Miss Potter," Professor McGonagall's eyes got big then she said quickly and sharply, "Jones."  
  
Hazel took a deep breath. I'll be ok, I mean all I have to do is wave my wand and concentrate on what I want to transfigure and-  
  
"How did I know that?" Hazel demanded.  
  
"How did you know what?" Professor McGonagall asked, slightly confused.  
  
"I-I just knew how to transfigure something."  
  
"Well then, let's start the test. Beetle to a button."  
  
"Er, right." Hazel said uncertainly. Hazel concentrated hard on the beetle, which was difficult owing to the fact that it scurried around the table quite frequently. Actually, it never stopped.  
  
Then it rolled off the table, and Hazel groaned expecting the beetle to either run away or be stepped upon. When she bent down to pick it up there was only a button on the ground! She had done it!  
  
"Professor, here's my button." She said handing it to Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall's eyes got big.  
  
"You have mastered what some first years cannot do at the end of the year, perhaps we should try something a little harder. Turn this porcupine into a pin cushion."  
  
They went through the same routine four more times. Each time she had to do something different. Matches into needles, parchment into paper, teapot into a turtle, and when she ran out of material, forks and knives into napkins.  
  
  
  
"Well," Professor McGonagall said after a conference with Professor Dumbledore. "You seem to fit in for the fifth year, but how I do not know. Now off you go to Professor Sprout to test your level in Herbology." But Hazel was sure she knew why. Everything was just like her dreams had been. She knew how to do things that she didn't even imagine could happen.  
  
All of the tests went pretty much the same for Hazel. They tested her up to fourth year and pronounced her ready for the fifth year. The last test Hazel had to do was potions.  
  
When Hazel walked over to Professor Snape she had the immediate impression that he loathed her.  
  
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Hazel noticed that he hardly spoke above a whisper. "As there is little foolish wand waving here, you may hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - If you aren't as big a dunderhead as my past students I usually have to teach."  
  
Hazel sat in silence after this pronouncement. Did he usually talk in speeches or was this a right saved for her? What did he mean by foolish wand waving? It wasn't foolish. It was very interesting. Hazel sat for a second longer and realized that she had "heard" that speech before. But where in a Non-magic establishment would she have heard that kind of stuff? She frowned.  
  
"Miss Jones." Snape said abruptly. "What would I get if I added wolfsbane to infusion of lentracy?"  
  
"Um, I don't know Sir." Hazel said watching a gleeful look cross Snape's face.  
  
"Fine. Where would you look if I asked for talisman?"  
  
"I don't know, Sir."  
  
"Ah, decided not to open a book?"  
  
I DON'T HAVE MY BOOKS YET! I AM BEING TESTED! WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO HAVE BOOKS? I WAS RAISED IN A NON-MAGICAL COMMUNITY! HELLO! Hazel thought furiously.  
  
"No."  
  
"Let's see how you do on brewing a potion."  
  
The next half hour went like this for Hazel. Snape seemed to want her to fail and gave her a potion that she suspected was for graduates. Finally,  
  
"You are done. I will give the headmaster your scores. Got to the headmaster's office."  
  
With much relief Hazel walked down to Dumbledore's office. After all, she knew where it was now.  
  
"Miss Jones. Me among many of the other professors have all agreed," When Dumbledore said 'agreed' Hazel distinctly saw Snape's eyes narrow. "That you belong in class with the fifth years. Now I know it has been a busy day, but you are to lodge here tonight. I have already informed your guardians and they are expecting you tomorrow morning at 11 o' clock sharp. Professor McGonagall, if you please?" Dumbledore nodded towards Hazel and Professor McGonagall walked forward.  
  
"I am going to show you to your dormitory. You need to have this memorized by the beginning of the term so the other students your age will not suspect otherwise."  
  
Suspect otherwise what?  
  
"Alright Professor, but I think I know the way already." Subconsciously, anyway. Hazel thought.  
  
"Really?" Professor McGonagall said skeptically.  
  
"Yea." Hazel said. "Can I go and if I am going the wrong way you can correct me?" This is just like my dreams. I just have to walk and distract myself so that my subconscious can lead me. This realization over, Hazel continued to walk to the dormitory.  
  
"I suppose."  
  
Together they walked along many passages and Hazel just let her feet do all of the walking and she did all of the talking.  
  
Finally they emerged in front of a portrait of a very fat lady.  
  
"Password?" she said the moment they stopped in front of her.  
  
"Laring- PEEVES!" A pile of what looked like fireworks was hovering over their heads.  
  
"What are those?" Hazel asked, pointing to the 'fireworks' over their heads.  
  
"Those are dungbombs." Professor McGonagall said.  
  
"Dungbombs? Um, if you don't mind I'd rather not be here."  
  
"I do mind. Stay right here. I will be right back."  
  
"But-no!-Why are you leaving me?- I don't know what to do- What happens if he-" Never mind.  
  
With that Professor McGonagall disappeared.  
  
"Sure," Hazel yelled after Professor McGonagall. "Leave me to do the dirty a-and smelly work!"  
  
Professor McGonagall returned with a man that looked like he was a hobo. His hair was a mess, and his leather coat didn't help. Behind the man was a ghost. He looked like he had silvery-white blood all over him.  
  
"Baron, Filch you may want to take a look at Peeves." She gestured to the ceiling where Peeves was pretending to be Hazel. He had already dropped the dungbombs and it reeked.  
  
Peeves was changing his form to look like Hazel and he put on a pink frilly dress with a hoop skirt. Hazel glared at Peeves. She didn't know why, but she made a grabbing motion with her hand and an orb materialized, floating over her hand. When Peeves saw the orb he let out a horrible yell and was sucked into the orb.  
  
Hazel stood there with the orb floating over her hand and Peeves inside of it, fully aware that Professor McGonagall, Filch and the ghost were all staring at her. 


	2. Home Again

IPeeves was changing his form to look like Hazel and he put on a pink frilly dress with a hoop skirt. Hazel glared at Peeves. She didn't know why, but she made a grabbing motion with her hand and an orb materialized, floating over her hand. When Peeves saw the orb he let out a horrible yell and was sucked into the orb.  
  
Hazel stood there with the orb floating over her hand and Peeves inside of it, fully aware that Professor McGonagall, Filch and the ghost were all staring at her./I  
  
  
  
  
  
uChapter Two - Home Again/u  
  
  
  
"I don't know what happened." Hazel repeated defiantly for the fifth time flinging her arms as she spoke. "I saw is what you saw." She was currently seated in Professor McGonagall's office, and the owner of the office was currently glaring down at her in a large amount of disarray.  
  
"But Miss Potter!" Professor McGonagall yelled. Her eyes were huge and she was slightly pink in the face.  
  
Hazel was surprised. Minerva McGonagall didn't seem like the kind of person who lost control. She seemed like a laid back, strict, Professor. But here she was yelling like there was a crisis on her hands.  
  
"Look!" Hazel burst out angrily. " I don't know why I made that hand motion, I just did, OKAY?" as Hazel finished this pronouncement she looked up at Professor McGonagall. The professor looked, to say the least, flustered, confused, angry, tired, and annoyed all at once. It would have been quite comical if it had not been such a serious time. McGonagall's glasses were askew, and her face had red splotches from being angry and flustered.  
  
"And," Hazel added. "I believe that it was an improvement."  
  
"Improvement or not," McGonagall said severely to Hazel. "This is not to happen again Miss Potter. You understand me? This must not be seen. When Dumbledore said strange things . . . I never imagined that you would be . . . Never mind that. I need to talk with the Headmaster. You will go into the girls' dormitory. I expect you know where that is too?" Professor McGonagall said sharply. Hazel nodded. "Fine. Good night Miss Jones, and no more mischief in the halls. Goodness knows we don't need the rest of our Hogwarts ghosts inside orbs as well."  
  
Hazel followed Professor McGonagall with her eyes for quite some time and heard her muttering to herself things like, "I can't believe it.", and "Haven't had one at Hogwarts since Potter, but he doesn't know.", and "When does the power mature? I'll have to ask Madame Pince once I get the chance.".  
  
None of this made sense to Hazel, who decided it was time to turn into bed. Tucking her thoughts into the back of her head, Hazel started walking. Today had been an unpredictable day and there weren't any students here yet. She wondered how chaotic it would be with hundreds of people here. Why did she have the feeling that she wasn't the same as everyone else, even though they were witches and wizards too? The last thing Hazel remembered thinking about before falling asleep was what does everybody else know that I don't?  
  
The next morning was chaotic indeed. The new term began in one week and everybody was clearly getting ready. Filch was cleaning everything from the dungeons to the highest tower. Scouring it 'till it shined. She had gotten into a bit of a spot with him that day. She had been outside and had gotten some (considerably more than some) dirt on her shoes and when she came back in she left a few tracks on the floor. She thought Filch was going to have a fit. He had been foaming at the mouth and had informed her that she was going to have detention at the first of the term. Then he hurried around cleaning the floor at once.  
  
Many paintings' subjects were all frowning and rubbing pink noses as they had all been scrubbed until they shone. Not to mention all of the professors were running about the school, which was beginning to look like a vast anthill, getting everything set for the coming school year. That is, all except Dumbledore. When he was asked to do anything Dumbledore would wave his wand and continue talking to Hazel. Dumbledore was showing her around the castle, which Hazel thought was quite unnecessary. After all, it was probably just wasting his time. It wasn't until they were in a corridor that Hazel thought of something.  
  
"Professor," She said unable to stop herself. "Professor, who is going to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Where that had come from, Hazel did not know. I guess my dreams are more reliable that I thought they were. Hazel thought to herself. I wonder if everything I saw was true. She didn't remember all of her dreams, and only what she had written in her journal could tell the full story of what she had seen over the four years. She was looking at Dumbledore apprehensively.  
  
"Ah, that remains to be seen." Dumbledore said. Hazel was pondering the many things that had happened to her when a thought hit her. Literally.  
  
"Ouch!" Hazel yelped. "What was that?"  
  
"That was a thought." Dumbledore said sounding amused. Dumbledore seemed to be amused with a lot of things that happened to her. "Professor Trelawney must be trying out a new method of Divination because I got the strong feeling of Saturn from that one." Dumbledore said with a slight laugh. "I'm sorry, you don't understand. I shall assign you Divination as an extra study in the beginning of the new term."  
  
"Uh, alright." Though she didn't mention it, Hazel had the feeling that she knew exactly what he meant that he thought there was a strong feeling of Saturn from that one. Though telling him wouldn't do any good. After all, maybe she didn't really know, and just wanted to.  
  
As they continued to walk together in silence, Dumbledore began muttering to himself and all she understood was "Dog. should show her. where's the picture?" Then, without warning, Dumbledore stopped walking and Hazel almost didn't stop in time to avoid colliding with him.  
  
Dumbledore pulled out a something, and showed Hazel a moving picture of a dog. He explained that this dog was really a man Sirius Black. Then, without a moment's hesitation said,  
  
"Now, I think it's time for you to go home." Dumbledore said.  
  
"Home? Already? But, what about that dog? And what does the man look like when he's not a dog? Home?" Hazel whined. She wasn't ready to go home yet, she wanted to continue exploring the halls of Hogwarts, and she wanted to walk around the lake that she had seen, and she wanted to do so many things, but couldn't do them all in the time that was provided.  
  
"Yes Hazel, home." Hazel sighed. She was going to have to do a lot of apologizing to make up for the fuss she had made at home.a lot of explaining.  
  
"Alright, how do I get back? Another vortex?" Hazel said without asking much. She felt that she already know.  
  
Dumbledore shook his head slightly and handed a small sack about three inches high and two inches wide made of red satin with a gold drawstring to her. "You know what to do with it and it never hurts to have some extra on hand. However this works a little differently than Floo Powder, there needs to be no fire on the other end."  
  
Hazel stared at the bag. This must be worth a fortune! But she also must be careful not to talk about this with ANY of her friends. Hazel coughed. She didn't have any friends and she hoped she would find some, because she would be very lonely without friends.  
  
Hazel jerked herself out of her thoughts. "Gotta stop thinking about that stuff. Right now I need to find a fire to use this stuff in! Fire, fire, gotta find a fire."  
  
Hazel wandered around Hogwarts for a while, trying to find a fire, when she finally found one. It was in the Ravenclaw common room. At least she assumed it was the Ravenclaw common room because there were drapes all around the doors and windows and staircases saying "Welcome Back Ravenclaws!" She didn't know why the portrait let her through, but she was grateful all the same. Hazel knew enough about the magical world that when somebody did something for you, you ought to be grateful, no matter what. Turning, she threw a pinch of the opaque powder into the fire and walked into it. Then she distinctly - she hoped it was distinctly - said, "Number 7 Privet Drive."  
  
With that, a horrible spinning feeling started and she seemed to think that this powder was worse than Floo Powder because this one spun faster. Quite suddenly it stopped, sending Hazel sprawling down onto the ground.  
  
Hazel sat up. Her elbow was bleeding freely, and she was in the middle of the street. Hazel stood up and took a deep breath. She was going to have to do a LOT of explaining in the near future.  
  
Hazel walked very slowly back to her house.  
  
"Not my house," Hazel corrected herself out loud. "Mary and John's house. My guardian's house."  
  
After standing on the threshold of the house for quite some time, Hazel finally decided to go into the house. She rang the doorbell and waited.  
  
The door opened. Mary and John were standing there, smiling shyly.  
  
"Welcome home honey." Mary said softly. "I hope you aren't too mad at us because we want to hear all about Hogwarts, what was it like there? What did you do?" Hazel smiled the first real smile she'd smiled since her scar had started hurting nearly four months ago. She wished she had somebody to ask - Somebody to be like her guardian to the magical world - Mary and John knew nothing about magic, so they wouldn't be any help.  
  
For the next fifteen minutes Hazel sat down with them and talked and talked and talked about everything that had happened and everything that she had seen and done. She told them how the hooked nose teacher, Professor Snape had seemed to hate her (and how she thought he washed his hair with grease. Mary wasn't too pleased with this information, but John was thrilled.), and how she seemed to know all of the things that the incoming fifth years knew and that she was going to go into Hogwarts as a fifth year instead of a first year because she could do everything that was expected. She told of the moving staircases and the ghosts. She told them about Peeves the Poltergeist and how she was going to be in Gryffindor and what the other houses were. She felt like she had drank a hot cup of cocoa, but instead it was a hot cup of relief. After what was an eternity of happiness she knew it had to end. Finally she asked her last question. This question had been nagging her ever since she had found out she was to have magical school supplies.  
  
"Can you take me to wherever people buy wands and things? I had to use a school wand and you have to be rude to the school wands to make them do things." Hazel remembered the school wand and the harsh words that went through her mind to make them work for her. She definitely needed her own wand.  
  
"We would take you, but we have no idea where to go or what you need to buy and-" Mary stopped short because an owl had come into the window. The owl twittered loudly and held out its leg, indicating that Hazel should take the letter that was attached.  
  
Automatically Hazel reached out and grabbed the letter. It was in a parchment envelope. She opened it and the writing was in shimmering emerald ink, like always. Everything they wrote was in emerald ink. It was never blue or black, or heck, even red? But no, it was always the same emerald green, like her eyes.  
  
Dear Ms. Hazel Potter,  
  
Under normal circumstances you would get an acceptance letter but I think you have already had a sufficient chance to read the three you already have.  
  
The start of the term is September 1st and you are expected to have the required equipment on the attached list.  
  
I have already learned that you have caught out poltergeist in an orb-like state. I am pleased to say that you are eligible to earn a special service to the school award, as that is the greatest thing a student has done in service to the school.  
  
There are a few things you NEED to know. You are to answer to Miss Jones only, and not to tell anyone that your name is Miss Hazel Potter. You are to attend after dinner classes to learn to be a sorceress. You will have one other peer with you. I am sending a representative to take you to Diagon Alley to help you buy the necessary school supplies.  
  
See you on the 1st,  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
Hazel stood there in awe. There was a place for people to go and buy magical supplies? How did they hide a place like that? If there was even a place the size of a city block, how could they hide it? That was like impossible.  
  
"Hazel!" Hazel scolded herself, knowing the answer was the most obvious one possible. "Magic, duh! Magic."  
  
After convincing herself that is was indeed possible to hide a vast piece of land, Hazel decided to ask Mary and John if they knew anything about this place. She had never heard of it, but then again she had never known that witched and wizards existed either.  
  
Their answer was just what she had expected. No. They had never heard of or seen this place, Diagon Alley, and didn't recognize the name. After asking people all down her block whether they had heard of Diagon Alley (she didn't mention that it was a magical settlement), Hazel decided that she would have to write a letter to Dumbledore. The only people she hadn't asked were the odd family of number 4 Privet Drive. They seemed to regard her with utmost caution, and she happily avoided them.  
  
Grabbing a ballpoint pen she started writing.  
  
Dear Albus Mr. Professor Dumbledore,  
  
I have been wondering how I am to get to Diagon Alley. Is the representative going to take me there with them or do I have to get there myself? If it is indeed the latter then please give me instructions of how to get there.  
  
Thank you,  
  
Hazel Potter Jones  
  
Now Hazel was faced with a new problem. How was she going to send the letter? She was sure that Dumbledore didn't have a normal address, so she couldn't send it by the post. But how did witches and wizards send letters. She briefly thought of what she had been taught in school about how they used insects that could talk, but she was certain that she wouldn't find and talking insects around here. She would have to go find a wild owl.  
  
Hazel took three hours planning her route out of the house. She would have to leave when Mary and John were watching the television, which was around ten o'clock. Then she would have to get back by one if she was to keep them from noticing. John had to leave for work at two and always woke up around 1:30 a.m. leaving Hazel with a small note every morning. She wasn't sure what he did, but she was pretty sure that he looked in her room before he put the note on her bedside dresser. Well, that's the way I used to be, Hazel had no idea what he might do now. He might do nothing.  
  
Hazel felt bad about sneaking out of the house, she felt bad about misusing their trust, but she had to do this. But did she? All she was doing this for was an owl, a means of delivering a letter, and her letter wasn't that important. She could always wait and see what happened. Was it that important? Something told Hazel that she had to do this, and do this tonight. At 10:00.  
  
Setting out that night was an easier task to plan rather than do. Mary and John were up, and they were watching television, just like Hazel had thought they would be. That made things much easier. Walking - or rather sneaking - around to the back door, Hazel turned the handle as quietly as she could.  
  
The door was locked.  
  
Desperately Hazel looked around for some other way to get out of the house. Some means of escape. All of her plans were ruined by one thing that she hadn't thought would happen. She looked quickly around for any way to get out. She found none. Then slowly, Hazel turned to look about the room that Mary and John were in. The window, directly behind them, was open just enough for her to slip through.  
  
There's only one problem with this plan! A voice said in Hazel's head, presumably the angel side.  
  
Oh yeah? And what might that be smartso? The devil side of her asked.  
  
Did you ever think about what would happen if there wasn't a way back in to the house? What of you got locked out, eh, Hazel? Then what would you do? Plead for mercy like you did last time you got caught doing something out after hours? That didn't work so well last time did it? Don't go out, you'll be A LOT safer, plus you won't have to worry about being caught. YOU WON'T DO IT. The voice said firmly.  
  
WOULD YOU BOTH SHUT UP? Hazel commanded the voices in her head.  
  
I'm losing it. Hazel thought to herself. Is it possible to go insane at 15?  
  
Forcing herself to stop thinking about her thoughts, Hazel tried to figure out how she was going to get OUT of that window. She couldn't think of any way to get there without Mary and John noticing that she was going. It would be like someone strutting into a bank wearing a sign that said, 'I'm going to rob a bank.'  
  
Hazel stood, glued to the spot, thinking. If she mad a dash for it, they would notice and get angry with her. If she snuck and they caught her she would be in even more trouble.  
  
She sat there thinking for over 20 minutes before she decided to give up. She was just going to walk aver to the window and see what they did to her. After all they wouldn't kill her, would they? She knew that they weren't that happy with her, but they wouldn't actually hurt her.  
  
Slowly, with all of her senses at work, Hazel sauntered into the room, and stopped right in front of Mary. She didn't bat an eyelash. In fact, Hazel thought she didn't even see her. It was as if she was invisible.  
  
Thinking fast, Hazel waved her hand energetically in front of Mary's face. Since Mary didn't move, Hazel figured that either she, Hazel, was invisible, or else Mary had gone blind.  
  
Still not daring to breathe, Hazel snuck out of the window, leaned against the outside of the house, and slid down it. This was all so confusing. The magic, the school, and the surrealism of it all.  
  
Picking herself up, Hazel started walking down a dusty road. She had to find an owl, and fast.  
  
Half an hour later, Hazel had succeeded in one thing. Getting lost. Walking as quickly as she could, Hazel tried to figure out where she was. Since she couldn't see where she was going, she ended up in the next block. Not seeing what was ahead of her, Hazel took a step forward and fell into two feet of mud.  
  
Angry at how clumsy she had been she picked herself up and felt her glasses snap on her face. Sighing, she held them to her face. Now she would have to go back and fix them, or else walk around clutching her glasses to her face the whole time.  
  
Deciding against the latter, Hazel started to walk back to her house when a large black dog caught her eye. Turning her gaze a little to the left she was able to get a clear view of the dog.  
  
It resembled the dog that Dumbledore had told her was Sirius Black, but she wasn't sure. There could be thousands of dogs that resembled what Sirius had looked like, and just because this one looked like him, didn't mean it was him.  
  
Assuming that this dog wasn't Sirius, why was it starring intently at her? What was interesting about her?  
  
"Sirius?" Hazel asked.  
  
The dog lifted it's head in a dignified manner and looked over her.  
  
"What?" Hazel jumped. Whatever she was expecting, this wasn't it. The dog had - had talked? Dogs weren't supposed to talk.  
  
Normal dogs aren't supposed to talk. Hazel reminded herself. But this certainly wasn't a normal dog now, was it?  
  
"Um, are you Sirius Black?" Hazel asked, feeling a little silly. She was talking to a dog. No, she was talking to a talking dog.  
  
"Why would I have answered you if I wasn't?" The dog answered sharply, looking offended. Hazel fought the urge to laugh. An offended looking dog was somewhat funny to see.  
  
"Um, I don't know, but there have been some really weird things going on, so I can't be over cautious can I?" Hazel asked innocently.  
  
Sirius shook his doggish head. Hazel and he stood regarding each other for quite some time.  
  
"What has Dumbledore told you about me?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Not much. Nobody will tell me anything that I want them to. He told me that you can turn into a dog, which I think is pretty obvious because I'm currently talking to a dog."  
  
"Did he tell you that I'm. I'm your Godfather?"  
  
Her green eyes flashing, Hazel turned around in a circle trying to think of what to say and to do. She was taking up the time by examining him. He had a small scar on his left cheek.  
  
"What proof do you have that you are my godfather?" She asked suddenly. The words had exploded from her mouth before she could stop them.  
  
Slowly Sirius's gaze lowered to the ground.  
  
"Are you sure you want to know?" He croaked.  
  
"Yes." Hazel said fiercely. "Yes. I want to know WHO I AM."  
  
Taking a deep, visible, breath, Sirius began.  
  
"Alright. Hazel, your parents, I mean your real parents were murdered. They were murdered by a man named Voldemort. He wanted to murder you too-"  
  
"Ok!" Hazel interrupted loudly. "Ok! Heard enough!"  
  
He wanted to murder me? Why? What did I do to make somebody want to murder me? Wait, is that what all of that screaming I hear in my head is? My parents getting murdered? No, no it can't be, it just can't be. MY parent's weren't murdered. That's just one of those things you dream about. He's lying!  
  
WAKE UP HAZEL! Her mind screamed. IT'S REAL! And it must have been real, because it tied in with her dreams perfectly. No parents.screams.the green flash of light.  
  
"Look," Sirius said. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, I mean, I'm just sorry." And he truly looked it. His eyes were full of emotion. Was that sorrow, or was it pain? Hazel couldn't tell, but what she could tell was that he had known something about her that he wasn't going to tell her. It annoyed her and alarmed her a little that no one was willing to tell her exactly who she was and who her parents were. And what had happened to that boy in her dreams?  
  
Taking a sharp breath, Hazel stepped forward. Not really paying attention to what she was doing she looked at the man's face closely. There were tears in is eyes as though there was more to the story that he couldn't or didn't want to tell. Taking one more step forward Hazel was six inches away from Sirius.  
  
Looking down at her feet, Hazel hugged Sirius. She wasn't entirely sure what made her do it. Maybe it was the lack of physical contact she had been given, or maybe it was just because she wanted to comfort him. The reason, Hazel would never know. All she knew was that it felt just right to be hugging Sirius. At first he didn't do anything and was stiff, but then he relaxed and hugged back.  
  
"I believe you." She whispered.  
  
He nodded.  
  
Walking back to her house seemed to take no time at all. Hazel's mind was spinning and a snowy, white, female owl was following her. Sirius had said her name was Hedwig and that she would deliver anything for her if she told the owl her name.  
  
Hazel thought to herself that that was stupid that the owl would listen to her if she told it it's name, but didn't say anything to Sirius. After all, there were many things she didn't understand and this was probably just ANOTHER one of them, which, no one would bother to explain to her until she already had found out the answer herself.  
  
Hazel was outside of the house now. Mary and John had gone to bed. Hazel didn't bother to turn but said to the owl.  
  
"Stay here. I'll be right back with the letter, and if I can I'll grab you something to eat, ok?" She had figured that the best way to get the owl to do something for her was if she gave the owl something in return. Wondering briefly what owls ate; Hazel crept in through the window.  
  
The house was dark, but not as dark as it was outside. A cloud shifted outside and the moon was visible. There was an eerie shadow of her as she walked down a hallway.  
  
Finding the letter that she wanted to send to Dumbledore, Hazel started walking back to where she had left the owl and wondered whether the owl was still there or not, when she remembered that she had promised to bring it something to eat also, so doubling back to the kitchen Hazel grabbed some cornflakes. And some tape. Her glasses were still broken and she knew no other way to fix them.  
  
When she got to the window, the owl was indeed still there.  
  
"Thanks." Hazel said to the owl. She didn't know if the owl could understand her, but she was going to be polite all the same.  
  
"Ok, can you send this letter to Mr. Dumbledore?" Hazel asked.  
  
Hedwig stuck out her leg, apparently waiting for Hazel to do something, but Hazel had no idea what.  
  
"Um, what am I supposed to do? Strap the letter to your leg?" Hazel said sarcastically.  
  
Hedwig hooted in a manner that clearly meant yes.  
  
"Oh, sorry if I offended you."  
  
Running to get a rubber band and running back Hazel was able to get Hedwig ready in a matter of two minutes.  
  
"Ok, bye then!" Hazel said.  
  
Hazel spent hours trying to get the spell, 'Oculus Reparo' to fix her glasses, but nothing ever came out of her hand and the glasses remained in two, distinct halves. She finally decided that she would just tape them together. Like always.  
  
Yawning, Hazel decided it was time to go to bed.  
  
The next morning dawned bright, and clear, and Hedwig free. Sighing, Hazel decided that the owl must not have had a reply.  
  
Waking up had been a big problem that morning for Hazel, but actually getting up and moving was beyond possible. She lay in bed until ten when Mary came in and asked her repeatedly if everything was all right.  
  
"Ya," Hazel answered for the fourth time that morning. "Just tired." Hazel instantly knew that she had made a mistake in that answer, because Mary started fussing over her, about how she was a growing girl and how she ought to be getting to bed earlier (you have no idea.) and how she needed a large, and highly nutritional breakfast with soy milk.  
  
"No!" Hazel said quickly. "NO! I don't really want to eat a ten- course breakfast. Save that stuff for dinner, ok?" Besides, soymilk is NASTY!  
  
Mary looked skeptically at her, but then decided that she meant it and walked downstairs, muttering to herself.  
  
Hazel got up and got dressed. She put on the only clothes she had in her closet. The rest of her clothes were at the dry cleaners.  
  
She had an extremely baggy, grey looking, shirt and a pair of jeans that she had to roll up six times so that she could use her feet.  
  
"MARY! Why are all of my clothes at the dry cleaners? I thought I was going to go out in public today! I look like I have hand-me-downs from a really, really, really fat person!"  
  
"Oh well honey, at least you have clothes, the people in Bosnia-"  
  
"Have no clothes." Hazel finished. "I know, I know, I know. It's just really annoying, that's all I'm trying to get at."  
  
Feeling lucky that Mary hadn't heard that remark Hazel walked down the stairs.  
  
Mary hadn't apparently listened to a word that she had said, and had made an abnormally huge breakfast.  
  
"Now, I wasn't sure whether you would want the bacon and eggs or the pancakes, or what, so I made you a little of everything."  
  
Little? Ha! Understatement of the century!  
  
"Um, thanks, I guess." Hazel said.  
  
John walked in, and raised his eyes at Hazel.  
  
"Not normal for you to ask for this much food." He said eyeing the monstrous piles of food, some of which were so odd and foreign, that not even the people that came from the foods' countries would recognize then among the eggs, omelette, potatoes, and pancakes.  
  
"Ya, and I am still yet to ask."  
  
It took a minute for the words to sink into his head, but then John smiled.  
  
"Ah, you know what honey?" He was addressing Mary. "I am a spot hungry myself. Would you mind if I join Hazel?"  
  
"Well that means that I would have to make twice as much food and-"  
  
"NO." Hazel and John said at the same time.  
  
Mary sighed.  
  
"I'm sorry Hazel, John. It's just I have been wanting to be a good housewife so that Hazel would feel welcome and well."  
  
Hazel's expression softened. "But I already felt welcome, and mind you, you better help us eat this food or I won't be able to eat 'till Christmas."  
  
Everybody laughed.  
  
"Well, we might be eating some of this for lunch too." Mary said thoughtfully to them as they began to attempt to make a small dent in the amount of food that was piled on the poor table that was bowed just trying to hold the entire weight of all of the food.  
  
Mary was right. They did have to eat some of it for lunch.  
  
"Pancakes and bacon and eggs for lunch? I've never heard of such a thing." John said, pretending to be shocked. "Why would someone eat pancakes at lunch?"  
  
"Because they had WAY too much at breakfast." Hazel quickly informed him.  
  
Mary exhaled. "Just look at all of the food!"  
  
"No, no!" Hazel said. "Don't look at it, eat it!"  
  
The food lasted way too long, and when Hazel finished she thought they were going to have to roll her around the house.  
  
After lunch they all sat around doing virtually nothing.  
  
"I'm bored." Hazel whined.  
  
"So am I." John said. "Get used to it."  
  
"Let's play a bored game." Mary suggested.  
  
They all grinned.  
  
"But we already are!" Hazel said.  
  
"True." Mary said.  
  
"Let's play another one." Hazel and John said at the same time.  
  
"JINX!" Hazel said enthusiastically pointing at John.  
  
'No! No! Don't do this to me!' John mouthed to Hazel.  
  
Hazel stuck out her tongue. John reached over and tickled her.  
  
For the next fifteen minutes Hazel couldn't stop laughing. Tears were rolling down her eyes because John hadn't stopped tickling her. She wanted him to stop, but she didn't want to lose the jinx.  
  
'I'm not gonna stop until you un-jinx me.' He mouthed at her.  
  
"Then you're gonna be tickling me for a LONG time!" Hazel gasped between laughs.  
  
Five minutes later John was un-jinxed and he was done tickling her. It occurred to her that this, this having fun time, this was how it should be, all the time. Not just when Mary made an overly large breakfast, or when she had jinxed John, this was how she should have been spending the last 15 years of her life. Having fun.  
  
Suddenly regretting what she had done in the past, Hazel sat up from her position on the floor and hugged John.  
  
At first he was like Sirius, but then he too relaxed and hugged back.  
  
When she released him, Mary was looking, or rather frowning down at her with a look of jealously easily written across her face.  
  
"Don't I get a hug too?" Mary pouted. She did a rather good impression of a whiny two-year-old. She almost sounded like Hazel did on many occasions.  
  
Hazel grinned delightedly.  
  
This, this was how it would be from now on.  
  
A dull tapping on the window brought Hazel back to her senses. Turning she saw Hedwig tapping on the window.  
  
Hazel sat up. Hedwig wouldn't stop tapping on the window no matter what she did, so she supposed that she should go and let her in the house. The owl looked like she had flown through the desert. She was dirty and thirsty and goodness knew what else. The poor owl was barely standing up properly and seemed to want to fall down on the spot and sleep.  
  
As she got up Hedwig stopped tapping on the window. It was as though she knew that Hazel was getting up to get her.  
  
When Hazel opened the window Hedwig flew in gratefully. It was a reply from Dumbledore.  
  
"I'll give you some food and water later." Hazel muttered to Hedwig.  
  
Hazel,  
  
I will send the representative tomorrow. Rebus Hagrid is going to be your representative. He will take you to Diagon Alley and assist you in anything else you will need.  
  
I am expecting you on the first.  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
The next morning Hazel woke up around five am, which was very unusual for her. She normally wasn't awake until ten, if that.  
  
Hazel was very anxious, because she had never been to an all-magical shopping center before. Well that was what she had assumed Diagon Alley was an all magical shopping center because she was going to buy all of her stuff from there. There was no other possible thing to call it in Hazel's mind, so that settled the matter.  
  
There was so much to look forward to! The people she would meet, the things she would see. It never occurred to her that there might be an end to the good, and a beginning to the bad. Right now, Hazel was ignorant and happy not knowing what might await her when she got to Hogwarts.  
  
It was half past 11 and there was, quite suddenly, a loud knock on the front door. Hazel ran to get it and when she opened the door she almost fell back in shock. There was a giant man, who she would later learn was Hagrid, but he was so big looking standing in front of her house that she almost didn't recognize him as a person at all. It might have been the fact that his head was some three feet above the doorframe that made her not realize he was a living thing at first, though.  
  
"I'm here ter pick up Miss Hazel Jones." He said when she had asked who he was. The man that was standing before her was tall, and scary-looking. His scruffy hair and long beard didn't help. He was gruff sounding and his hands were the size of trashcan lids.  
  
"Oh, I am Hazel." She said. He nodded, or at least she assumed he had nodded because she couldn't really tell. "Hold on, I need to tell Mary and John where I'm going, be right back!"  
  
Hazel bolted down the hallway half because she was excited and half because she was almost terrified of the humongous man that was at the front door of number 7 Privet Drive. "MARY! JOHN! MR. HAGRID IS HERE!" she yelled to them. She heard the scuffling of chairs and footsteps.  
  
"Oh you be careful honey!" Mary said. Hazel thought she was being a bit paranoid. "People might attack you. They have magic sticks things and they know magic! They might do some pretty horrible things to other people and you have to watch your back at all times. If you hear someone saying a spell try to locate the person and find out whether they are directing a spell at you and-"  
  
"Mary, I am with a guy, who is like nine feet tall, who's gonna try to attack me?" Hazel asked.  
  
"Nonsense Hazel, you know that those loonies don't think about who they're attacking! And they always seem to be looking for little-"  
  
"Mary," John said gently. "Think about what you're saying! Hazel will be fine, and when she gets back from Dragon Alley, or whatever that place is, she will tell us all about it. You know she's going to be fine."  
  
Mary sniffed. "I suppose you're right. Be careful though, ya' hear?"  
  
"Yup. Bye!" Hazel called as she walked back to the front door. "Mr. Hagrid?" she called. "Mr. Hagrid! How are we gonna get there?" Hazel refrained from saying 'Diagon Alley because she suspected that some of the neighbors might be watching and listening to everything that was happening. Hazel figured that most people tended to notice when a man nine feet tall came down the road, and the long-necked lady from down the street was being particularly nosey again. Hazel glanced in her direction and noticed that a rather porky boy was by her side, trying to hide behind her.  
  
"Well, we're goin' ter have ter use the muggle transport since I'm not allowed to use magic, and please, jus' call me Hagrid."  
  
"Oh," Hazel said. She was silently wondering what Hagrid had done to not be allowed to use magic, when suddenly, she knew.  
  
"Ok, this is getting weird." Hazel muttered under her breath so that Hagrid wouldn't hear. It was getting a little bit alarming that she was remembering things that she didn't even remember from her dreams. She followed Hagrid along the town square. When they came to the train station Hagrid pulled out two tickets and showed them to the ticket master. He nodded so they continued walking to the train.  
  
Hagrid took up two seats on the train. Most of the people on the train stared at Hagrid until Hazel glared at them then they went back to minding their own business until they thought Hazel wasn't looking, then stared at Hagrid again.  
  
When she finally got tired of glaring at people, and Hazel leaned back in her chair, and fell asleep.  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
I would like to thank the following people for reviewing the first chapter, you all made me feel really good about this story!  
  
Lil' Lolly Pop Girlie - Thank you for your compliments and suggestions. I have a few ideas that I am juggling right now. You'll have to wait and see!  
  
Gigglebox409 - Thanks! That's so nice of you! Don't you worry, I'm gonna continue this story if it's the last thing I do. Even if I have You-Know- Who (Not Voldemort, my BETA reader, she's scarier than Voldemort) breathing down my back!  
  
ThePopGurlz - I'll try to tell you when I update. Forgive me if I can't do it!  
  
Thank you to all of you that read this, but don't review. I love writing about Hazel, and I hope you like reading it!! 


	3. Diagon Alley

Chapter 3 - Diagon Alley  
  
Hazel woke up to Hagrid gruffly shaking her awake. Her whole arm seemed to fit in his hand, and she could feel her body leaving the seat every time he shook her. Her head ached where it had evidently hit the seat, and she couldn't feel her fingers.  
  
"Hagrid," she moaned to him. "Please let go of my arm. I'm awake now." He nodded and dropped her arm. She rubbed it and began wiggling her fingers.  
  
"We're 'ere." Hagrid said. Together they disembarked from the underground and Hazel had to rub her eyes as they reached the sunlight. They were walking along an old road, and the buildings lining it sold clothing, shoes, pencils and pens, even pet Gila Monsters, but not one shop looked as if it could sell you a magic wand.  
  
They walked farther along the road and they stopped in front of a dingy old building. There were peeling golden letters on the front of the building that read "EAKY CAULDRO".  
  
The Leaky Cauldron, as Hagrid had called it, was a small pub. If Hagrid hadn't stopped and pointed the building out, Hazel wouldn't have even noticed it among all of the glossy new-looking buildings of London. All of the people hurrying up and down the busy street didn't even notice it. The people jostling around the street behind them didn't seem to even notice the building in front of them, it was as if they couldn't even see it, and the prickling sensation on the back of her neck didn't help.  
  
"This is a famous pub for all o' the witches and wizards of the world." Hagrid told her as she shoved her inside.  
  
For a famous place it was rather dark and shabby looking. A few ladies were sitting in the corner gossiping, but for ladies they were the ugliest ladies that Hazel had ever seen. A few men were crowded around a billiards table smoking long pipes and laughing loudly. There were some things that looked like mutant goblins sitting around the smallest table drinking beer and pounding the table with their fists. A little man with a top hat was talking to the bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter and laughter seemed to quiet down a bit and everyone seemed to know Hagrid. A few people smiled and waved, and the bartender reached for a glass and said, "The usual, Hagrid?"  
  
"Not this time, Tom. Hogwarts business." Hagrid beamed down delightedly at Hazel and she nervously flattened down her bangs. These people, no matter where she was, seemed to know things about her that she didn't and she wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that she had her scar.  
  
She also noticed that people were looking at her eyes as though there was something odd about them. Quickly she pulled out a pair of sunglasses that she always kept in her pocket and put them on instead of her regular glasses. Nobody could see her eyes now.  
  
The bartender seemed to take a few looks before asking her name. It was as though people there were recognizing her.  
  
"And what is her name?" Tom finally asked, peeling his eyes away from her.  
  
"Hazel." She replied instantly. "Hazel Jones." She added remembering what Dumbledore had said.  
  
"Ah. I don' believe there has been a Jones here for a long time. Great wizarding family of the 1800's."  
  
"Er.I don't think I am related to THAT branch of the Joneses, I grew up. out of touch with magic." Hazel delicately said. Tom nodded.  
  
"Alrigh', well, Hagrid, good luck." Hagrid nodded and the next thing Hazel knew, she was being drug to the back door of the Leaky Cauldron. As they came out Hazel noticed that there was a solid-looking brick wall.  
  
"Hagrid? How're we going to go through a wall?"  
  
"We will, believe me. It's not what is just seems like." Hagrid said mischievously.  
  
"You jus' watch while I open th' door."  
  
Hazel stood and waited for him to do something. As Hagrid pulled out a pink umbrella a witch from inside the Leaky Cauldron came out and tripped over a can that seemed to be on the ground. She scattered all of her - whatever she was holding that looked strangely like bones - and knocked into Hazel. Hazel fell over and by the time she had gotten herself up the gateway that had been made in the wall was slowly closing.  
  
"Oh no." Hazel said to herself as she ran towards the hole that was still shrinking. She jumped through the hold and hit something rather solid. She turned around, expecting to see the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron, but instead met another solid panel of brick.  
  
She was stuck in the barrier that was between Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
  
  
BANG. BANG. BANG.  
  
Hazel's fist began to throb from hitting the wall so many times. She was desperate to get out. Being stuck in a wall for days wasn't her idea of fun. Besides, Hagrid must have been worried about her, right?  
  
"HELP!" Hazel screamed into the wall. Her voice was returned to her in an eerie echo. It was getting rather uncomfortable to be in there and she couldn't sit down. It was barely wide enough for her to stand in.  
  
Suddenly the bricks began rumbling and she heard some of them moving. Was someone trying to get through? Maybe that would mean that she could get out. If somebody opened the wall, then she would just fall out and be on her way, right? That was the way she got in.  
  
She felt someone pass through her and she thought she was going to be broken. It was like she was being ripped into pieces or like millions of tiny needles were being driven through her. It was the feeling that she was being run through a screen and she was broken up into pieces to fit through the gaps in the screen. The pain was so intense that Hazel wanted to scream; only she couldn't. Her voice was caught in her throat.  
  
Hazel emerged through the brick wall, or at least she thought she had. She took a look at her hands and gasped. She was partly there, but her hands and the rest of her, were transparent. She tried to touch something, and watched her hand pass through it. It was as though she was a ghost.  
  
"Oh no." She said. At first, Hazel thought she was a ghost. She heard her voice, but it was crackly and it seemed to be coming from far away. As she walked away from the brick wall where she had been stuck, she saw her hands flicker. She continued to take steps away from the wall and she flickered more and more frequently.  
  
Finally, when she came to about thirty paces away from the wall, she disappeared from view completely. Hazel knew that she had to get back to the wall. She could sense that all of her feelings were slowly siphoning out of her body and her mind was emptying. It was as though her soul was being sucked out of her. Hazel blindly plundered towards the wall again and she felt herself flicker. She finally came back into view and she let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"Okay." Hazel said to herself. "I can't go more that ten feet from the wall, my body's stuck in the middle of a magical portal thing, and I don't know where Hagrid is." Hazel sighed. "Great situation to be stuck in Hazel."  
  
Hazel's spirit, as she became accustomed to calling the being she was now, was pacing about ten feet from the wall, wondering what the heck she was going to do. There was nobody within about 1,000 feet of her, so she couldn't go and talk to someone unless she wanted to take the risk of disappearing forever. Hazel was quite sure she didn't want to disappear forever, so she stayed where she was.  
  
Minutes seemed like hours and hours seemed like days. It seemed that Hagrid hadn't even noticed that she was missing. Hazel was almost worried that something had happened to him when she thought of something. All of the professors and teachers and even Dumbledore had been a little distant with her, like they were keeping secrets from her. Maybe they had planned to leave here, stranded, and stuck in a magical portal for eternity.  
  
Hazel briefly wondered whether she could live forever if she wasn't really in her body when she flickered. The pain was returning. It was the same pain that she had experienced when she was being sucked out of the wall, but now she recognized that she was being almost magnetically attracted to the wall once more. Her feet began taking steps towards the wall without her actually wanting her feet to do anything.  
  
The now becoming familiar feeling of a million needles being pierced through her whole body took over all of her thoughts. Hazel closed her eyes and hoped that she wasn't either dying or going insane. Both weren't really good choices.  
  
The pain suddenly ended and she realized that she was, once again, stuck in the wall that separated the magical world from the non-magical world. Hazel heard muffled voices and she heard someone tapping on the bricks.  
  
"Not again!" Hazel said as she went as far to one side as she could. The brick wall began to open and she saw people standing diagonally from her. There were three people. One had silvery-blonde hair and a drawling voice. The second and third were easily twice as large as the first. One had a pudding bowl hair cut and the other had short, buzz cut-like hair.  
  
As the three went through the wall another group of people were coming through - a man with the same silvery-blonde hair and a woman with dark brown hair. The woman was wearing an expression that made Hazel think of her neighbor's pet pugs.  
  
That family and the other people that were with them looked almost scary as the wax figures at museums, and Hazel made a mental note NOT to associate with scary, wax-look-alike people.  
  
Hazel watched the people go sadly. She was still stuck in a wall and now she was sure that if she wasn't helped out that she would die of hunger because at that precise moment her stomach growled.  
  
She stood up and continued banging on the wall. Maybe nobody could hear her, but at least it made her feel like she was doing something.  
  
"Hazel. Hazel. Where are yeh?"  
  
"HAGRID!" Hazel yelled. She had heard Hagrid's voice, she was sure of it. "HAGRID I'M NOT MISSING! I'M STUCK IN THE WALL!" Hazel continued to yell as she banged her fist as hard as she could on the brick barrier.  
  
"Hazel?" Came the muffled reply.  
  
"YES, HAGRID, IT'S HAZEL. I'M STUCK IN THE BRICK WALL!"  
  
"How'd yeh get in there?" he asked. "Why'd yeh get in there?"  
  
"IT'S A LONG STORY HAGRID."  
  
Hazel was waiting to be rescued when a large, trash can lid sized hand appeared in the wall. She felt the hand grab the back of her shirt and she was being lifted. She started to go through the brick and she felt a spinning feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was thrown into a flash of light.  
  
Blinking, Hazel stood up. She saw a woman with fiery red hair and the same emerald eyes as she herself had. The woman was holding hands with a man with black hair that was easily as unruly as hers and his glasses were uncannily like hers. The pair of them looked delighted and nervous at the same time.  
  
"Sorry." Hazel said. Nobody in the scene before her eyes moves.  
  
"SORRY!" Hazel almost screamed. Nobody even blinked.  
  
The two were met by three other people, a tired-looking man with golden hair that was streaked with grey, another man, but this one with dark hair and a set jaw and he was good-looking even to Hazel who hated boys, and a third man who was square-ish and shorter than all of the four people around him.  
  
"Well," said the man that had the same hair, glasses, and probably many other things, as Hazel. "Lily and I have some news for you all." Hazel stared at the man, knowing that he couldn't see her. Had he said Lily? Wasn't that her middle name? Was it just a coincidence?  
  
"Well?!" the second man asked. He looked impatient and the blonde haired man was smacking him on the arm as though to tell him to shut up.  
  
Lily and the man she was holding hands with laughed.  
  
"We're going to have a baby." The man said.  
  
"You're joking, right?"  
  
"No, Sirius, I'm serious." The whole group of people laughed.  
  
"Congratulations James, Lily." Said the blonde-grey haired man.  
  
"Thanks, Remus. But, there's more news."  
  
"MORE?! JAMES POTTER, ARE YOU TELLING ME THE TRUTH?" Sirius said loudly.  
  
"Yes," James said. He turned to Lily and smiled.  
  
"We're having twins. A boy and a girl." Lily said.  
  
The three men standing before them all stood, with their mouths hanging open, looking from Lily, to James, and back again.  
  
Hazel felt herself being pulled back to the right time period of her life. The last thing she heard was,  
  
"What are you going to name them?"  
  
"Harry and Hazel."  
  
Hazel slowly became aware that she was staring into the eyes of a large man with a very messy beard and long hair.  
  
"Hagrid?" Hazel whispered.  
  
"Yea 'S me, Hazel. Are yeh alrigh'?"  
  
"Yes. . ." Hazel said. "Yes, I think so."  
  
"Okay, so, what's yer list say to get first?" Hagrid asked Hazel. Her stomach growled.  
  
"Some food." Hazel said at once. Hagrid smiled -or, that's what Hazel thought he did, she couldn't be sure.  
  
"Now, what's yer list say to get first?"  
  
Hazel reached in all of her pockets looking for a list, but she couldn't find anything anywhere.  
  
"Yeh lost it, didn' ya?" Hagrid said.  
  
Hazel smiled shyly at him. Would he be mad and did he know what she was supposed to bring to school? What if she had to go to Hogwarts without any of the supplies that she needed? Or even worse - What if she showed up with nothing and was taken home because she didn't have the things she needed?  
  
"H-Hagrid?" Hazel said, as she silently was dreading the answer.  
  
"Yea?" Hagrid said.  
  
"What will they do to me if, well, if I don't have my stuff?" What would they do?  
  
"Oh, don' worry 'bout tha'. I know more o' the things yeh'll be needin'."  
  
"R-really? You mean I can go to Hogwarts?" Hazel said.  
  
"Why wouldn't yeh?"  
  
"I don't know, Hagrid. I don't know."  
  
"Where do yeh want to go firs'?" Hagrid asked.  
  
Where did she want to go first? Maybe she wanted to get her wand, or maybe she wanted to go look at the shop that seemed to have every kind of pet imaginable, or maybe she wanted to look at the broomsticks that were on display. She didn't know.  
  
Hazel stood there, in the middle of the road, and she just turned in a few circles taking in all of the shops that were surrounding her.  
  
"There's so many to choose from." Hazel said obviously. Hagrid gave her a knowing look and nodded. Hazel stood and thought for what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a few seconds.  
  
"How about, we - we get my wand?" Hagrid nodded.  
  
"Good choice." Together they walked to the shop that evidently sold wands. The lettering on the building was obviously as old, if not older, than the lettering on the Leaky Cauldron, but was sparkling like new. The name of the shop was Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C. There were dozens of wands in cases being shown in the window and they all were delicately placed on beautiful, velvet cushions.  
  
As Hazel pushed open the door a clear and loud bell rang from somewhere in the shop. Hazel busied herself by looking at all of the wands that were placed in the cases. There was a label that said, "new arrivals" in a scrawly and a certain wand caught her eye. It looked the same as the others, yet quite different. Hazel wasn't sure what it was, but it DID look somewhat different. It wasn't the color or the shape or the size or the -  
  
"And who have we here?" Said a quiet voice behind her. Hazel whipped around and almost fell in the process. Where was Hagrid?  
  
"Um, hi?" Hazel said pitifully.  
  
"What's your name Milady?"  
  
"Hazel - Hazel Jones."  
  
"Alright miss Jones, well, are you here for your first wand or is this a second or perhaps third wand? Why just the other day I had a customer in for his twenty-third wand. . ." Mr. Ollivander continued in vain for quite some time, which gave Hazel more time to examine the shop around her. It was rather dusty and dingy. There were shelves upon shelves of wands and there was a large pile of ripped up papers at the back of the store.  
  
Hazel, finally bored of looking at the shop and listening to Mr. Ollivander talk, cleared her throat loudly.  
  
"Right, right, sorry." Mr. Ollivander said, and he almost sounded embarrassed. "So, have you any idea what your wand hand is?"  
  
Hazel blinked. "My what?"  
  
"Your wand hand, the hand that you use to write and cast spells."  
  
"Oh," Hazel said, trying to pretend that she had merely pushed the matter out of her mind instead of the truth that she was actually clueless. "I suppose it's my right hand." Mr. Ollivander nodded and began rummaging through the many boxes on the many shelves.  
  
Mr. Ollivander took out a tape measure and merely set it in mid-air and began rummaging again. It bothered Hazel a little bit that the tape measure was writing and measuring on it's own.  
  
"Ah!" He said suddenly and with such emphasis that Hazel, once again, jumped.  
  
"Try this one, Ms. Jones." Mr. Ollivander said. "Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."  
  
Hazel accepted the wand and waved the wand around. Suddenly a loud banging noise met Hazel's ears and she saw that one of the enormous shelves was falling. Hazel's eyes widened and she threw her hand in a complicated gesture and the shelf froze exactly where it was. Mr. Ollivander took a good look at her and shook his head, muttering to himself.  
  
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy if you ask me. Try this one-" But right as Hazel rose the wand she noticed that a file cabinet was starting to fly open and she quickly handed the wand back to him.  
  
"No, not that one." Mr. Ollivander agreed.  
  
"You're a tricky customer. Well, might as well . . . is there a wand that you are interested in? Anything you want to try?" Hazel thought for a minute. Did she want to try that wand she had been admiring in the window case?  
  
"Can - can I try that one?" she asked as she pointed to the wand in the case. Mr. Ollivander gave her a peculiar look.  
  
"What?" she said abruptly then her hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry, that was rude, wasn't it?" It was more of a statement that a question. Mr. Ollivander seemed to be, however, in his own little word as he was looking at the wand with a look of great confusion on his face. He slowly slid it out of the case as though it were going to explode. He, even slower, handed her the wand.  
  
"If you want to keep the wand-" Hazel began, but he cut her off at once.  
  
"This wand shouldn't exist." He whipped and looked at Hazel for a long timed. Hazel looked directly into his eyes and wished that he would blink.  
  
"You're surname isn't Jones, is it?" Mr. Ollivander demanded.  
  
"Yes sir, my surname IS Jones." Hazel lied. She hoped that she was convincing. Mr. Ollivander looked once more at the wand that was in his hand and suddenly he dropped the wand, as though it were a hot wire. The wand fell to the ground with a clatter.  
  
"What?!" Hazel said. "What's wrong with the wand?" Mr. Ollivander wearily walked over to a spinning chair that was near the wall in the shop. He sat down and tried to stop his hand from shaking.  
  
"Ms. Jones, I remember every single wand I've sold. Every single wand. It just happens to be that I DO NOT remember ever purchasing this wand's core and the phoenix whose tail feather resides in that wand-" he pointed at the wand. "Has only given two feathers, and I have sold BOTH of those wands."  
  
"Well, with all due respect and whatever, I don't think that any human being could actually remember all of these wands, I mean LOOK at all of them. There are thousands. How can somebody be expected to remember each one? I bet no one can name how many you've sold and - "  
  
"I've sold 32,347 wands, 43.56% of them were sold before the year 1500 - "  
  
"How old ARE you?" Hazel suddenly burst out.  
  
"My dear, if I knew, I would most certainly tell you. I am but a servant, bound to serve for all eternity. I am not a person, merely a free spirit that is solid."  
  
"Oh." Hazel bent down to pick up the wand.  
  
"Thirteen and a half inches. Yes. Phoenix tail feather. If you feel you must, you may wave it." Hazel eyed the wand suspiciously. She hadn't been having much luck with wands, and she had no doubt that something bad would happen with this one too.  
  
Hazel raised the wand a few inches and flicked it with a nice wrist movement. A shower of orange sparks flew forth from the wand and Mr. Ollivander, if possible, looked even more shocked.  
  
"How much?" Hazel asked.  
  
"Nothing. Just - just go." He said. Mr. Ollivander was breathing heavily and he looked quite shocked. If he hadn't told Hazel that he wasn't human she would think that he was having a heart attack.  
  
"But, shouldn't I pay for this. I mean, this can't be cheap to make and if you give this to me for free the, well, ya'know. . ." Hazel trailed off hopeful that Mr. Ollivander would know because she certainly didn't know.  
  
"Just take the wand and go Miss Jones." He said once more.  
  
"But I can't take it without paying for it. That's stealing." Hazel persisted. She wasn't going to take the wand. It must have been at least 50 galleons and she didn't want to get in trouble later for stealing a wand.  
  
"Take the wand." Mr. Ollivander whispered in a deathly scary whisper.  
  
"A-alright." Hazel stammered as she walked out of the shop with a startled expression on her face. That was the weirdest shop she had ever been in.  
  
"Hazel!" Said Hagrid as he met up with her. "I wrote down all of the stuff yeh'll be needin'." Hagrid handed her a list and she read it. There were about a million things that she still needed to get and she only had a few hours.  
  
"How do I pay for all this?" Hazel asked. Hagrid grinned and shoved a large bag that was full of money at her. "'Ere."  
  
"Um . . . thanks."  
  
Hazel looked over the list. The last things she needed were her books. They were the only things that Hagrid hadn't written down for her. Shrugging, Hazel strode into the bookshop.  
  
There were books on the shelves that were crying and there were books that were eating other books. Hazel couldn't believe the amount of books the shop held. From the outside you'd never realize that there were so many shelves and shelves and even people in the shop. Hazel had to remind herself that she was in a magical bookshop and many, many things can happen when the shop is a magical one.  
  
Hazel was about to go ask the shopkeeper where they kept, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, when she was shoved over by two boys that were arguing about something and they continued arguing all the way out the door. Hazel didn't really see them, but all she noticed was that one of them had very red hair. Hazel sighed because her regular glasses as well as her sunglasses were broken. She dropped her sunglasses in the garbage can, but what was she going to do with her real glasses?  
  
"I'm sorry," a girl said. "Those two don't EVER pay attention to where they're going." She helped Hazel pick up her things that she had dropped.  
  
"Are your glasses broken?" The girl asked.  
  
"Yeah," Hazel muttered. "It's okay, it happens all the time." But the girl wasn't listening. She had pulled out her wand.  
  
"Oculus Reparo." Hazel's eyes got bigger than they should have been. Wasn't that the spell she had done to repair the toaster and kitchen that summer?  
  
"Um, thanks . . ." Hazel said.  
  
"Oh, where are my manners?" the girl said suddenly. "My name's Hermione Granger." She said as she stuck out her hand for Hazel to shake. Hazel shook her hand and looked at the girl. Her hair was bushy, but it was nowhere near as bad as Hazel's was.  
  
"My name's Hazel Jones." Hazel told the girl. Hazel felt uncomfortable lying to so many people about her name. Why couldn't she tell people her real name?  
  
"Well, Hazel, I don't think I've seen you around before. Do you go to Hogwarts?" Hermione said all of this very fast.  
  
"Um, no, I'm a transfer student. This is my first year at Hogwarts."  
  
"Well, then you're in for a big surprise. There are lots of things at Hogwarts for you to discover. Have you seen the castle yet, or are you going to see it for the first time when we get there September First? Have you met any of the teachers yet? Some of them are grand and some of them aren't so nice to you. You have to watch out for Professor Snape. I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be. Probably some other guy." Hermione took a quick breath. "I wish they'd get a female teacher. Hogwarts hasn't had a female Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for over 750 years. Did you know that?" Hermione stopped talking long enough for Hazel to say,  
  
"No." Hazel said. She wanted to say more but Hermione cut in almost at once leaving Hazel to continue listening to her.  
  
"Well of course you didn't. You probably don't learn about other schools when you were at- where was it that you said you went before you were here?"  
  
Hazel thought quickly. This girl, Hermione, seemed to know a lot about - well - everything. Hazel weighed her chances. If she made something up the girl would probably figure out that she was lying and then she'd be in a lot more trouble than it was worth to be in. On the other hand, if she didn't answer at all the girl would get suspicious.  
  
"Uh, d- well, we're n-not supposed to talk about it." Hazel lied again. She knew she stuttered a lot and she hoped Hermione wouldn't count that against her.  
  
"Oh, I suppose that makes a lot of sense. I mean, there's a lot of rivalry between wizarding schools so it makes sense that you wouldn't tell me. Could you give me a clue? Then you wouldn't be telling me and I could have SOMETHING to do over the rest of the summer. I ran out of homework after the first two days."  
  
"THE FIRST TWO DAYS?" Hazel asked loudly. There must not be THAT much homework if she had finished it all in two days.  
  
"Yes. They only gave us four essays that only needed to be anywhere from three-five rolls of parchment each, so I ran out. I'm afraid I may have written too much on my potions and transfiguration homework. Both are seven rolls. My mum and dad can't help me, of course, so I took longer to do my homework than I would have wanted it to take. It took me three hours on my charms homework alone. Imagine how dreadful it'd be if it took me that long per roll of parchment."  
  
"Why couldn't your parents help you? Weren't they home?" Hazel asked, wondering whether Hermione had parents. Maybe she was somewhat like her and her parents weren't alive. That'd be the first thing she had in common with anyone she had met.  
  
"Oh, yes, they were home, but they're muggles so they can't help me with anything related to magic."  
  
"Muggles?" Hazel said blankly, not thinking about how clueless she sounded.  
  
"Non-magical people. . ." Hermione said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"Oh, is that what you call them here? Okay. I live with muggles too. Privet Drive, not that you'd know where that is."  
  
"Privet Drive?!" Hermione said sounding alarmed.  
  
"Yes, why? Is there something wrong?"  
  
"I-" whatever Hermione was going say, she was cut off because two boys that looked exactly the same came into the shop and grabbed Hermione's arms saying,  
  
"Ickle Ronnikins wants to tell you something, 'Mione." Hermione immediately turned a light pink color.  
  
"What would Ron want to tell me Fred, George?" Hermione asked them suspiciously.  
  
"You'll see Hermione." They both said at the same time with the same evil- looking smirks on their identical faces. And with that, Hermione was swept from the store. Hazel walked up to the person at the front desk.  
  
"Excuse me, do you know what books I need? I'm going to Hogwarts in the fifth year." Hazel said to the man behind the desk in the bookstore.  
  
"What subjects are you taking?" What subjects was she taking? What on earth did he mean? She was going to take everything.  
  
"Everything." Hazel told him. The man gave her a skeptical look.  
  
"Everything?" He said with doubt in his voice.  
  
"Yes, everything." The man shook his head and began making a pile of books. Hazel immediately knew her mistake. There were evidently a lot of subjects at Hogwarts, which she should have known, because there were a million teachers too.  
  
Ten minutes later the man showed no sign of relenting on the steady stream of books and Hazel began wondering whether she would be able to afford the books or not. There were piles and piles of books all on the desk and there were at least five in his arms each time he brought another load. Once there were about ten piles with ten books each he had finished bringing all of the books to her.  
  
"That'll be - to be perfectly honest, I don't know how much that'll be." The man said. He whipped out some parchment and a quill and started scribbling numbers. Now and then Hazel heard things like, "50 book discount" or "discount on three Bagshot books" and even "what's thirteen times twenty-one?"  
  
The man finally stood up fully. He had sweat on his brow and he gave Hazel an odd look.  
  
"You're sure you can afford this?" He said.  
  
"How much is it?"  
  
"132 galleons, but if you come here and help on weekends during the pre- Christmas season in November I'll give the books to you for 93 galleons." The man said.  
  
"Why is there such a price reduction if I come to help?" Hazel asked innocently.  
  
"Because you don't know what it's like here in November."  
  
"Deal." Hazel said and she handed over 93 galleons.  
  
"Hagrid," Hazel said. "I think I'll need more money soon."  
  
"Already?" Hagrid said as he gave Hazel an odd look.  
  
"Well, yea, because I spend a lot of money on books and other stuff for school . . ."  
  
"Well, how much did yeh spend?"  
  
"Around 245 galleons." Hagrid let out a booming laugh.  
  
"I've supplied yeh with 400 galleons and there are thousands more in your Gringotts vault!" Hagrid said. "Don't 'cha worry." Hazel smiled to herself. She was learning things by the time it was too late wherever she turned. Maybe it was time to learn to read the future.  
  
The train ride home was as uneventful as it could have ever been. Hazel sat up looking at the landscape flash by the train and wondering what it was going to be like once she got to Hogwarts. She wondered whether she'd see Hermione anymore and if she'd be in the same house as anyone that she had seen at Diagon Alley. Hazel frowned. What was it that almost everyone seemed to know at Hogwarts that they weren't telling her? Hazel was jerked out of her thoughts when Hagrid picked her up and carried her off the train practically by her arm. When he had set her down on the ground just outside of the train they walked out of earshot of any of the people that were passing by and he leaned close to her and said,  
  
"Oh, I almos' forgot. Here's your ticket and stick to it. Make sure you go where it says. If not you won't be on the right train. Stick to your ticket." Hazel looked at her ticket and it said:  
  
Platform 9 ¾ Kings Cross Station  
  
Hazel looked around to find Hagrid to argue that this platform simply didn't exist but Hagrid was nowhere in sight. He had simply disappeared from view. But how could someone so large just disappear?  
  
"Hagrid?" Hazel whispered. Sighing, Hazel drug the bags upon bags of stuff towards the exit. It looked like she'd be walking home. Hazel was, once again, jerked from her thoughts with a loud car horn. Mary and John were there waiting for her. Hazel attempted to drag the thousands of pounds of school things faster, but only succeeded in ripping a hole in one of the bags. Slowly, Hazel trudged to the car where John helped her load all of her stuff into the trunk. Most of it fit, but some of it was packed in around Hazel as she sat in the back and chattered their ears off about Diagon Alley and Hagrid and Hermione and all of the things that she had bought.  
  
When they arrived home Hazel whipped out her wand and told them what had happened at Ollivander's and Mary had told her around seven times that she should have paid for the wand. Hazel tried and tried to explain that Mr. Ollivander had been so forceful with the fact that she should take the wand for free that she simply couldn't have paid for it even if she had force- fed him poison first.  
  
Dinner was a grand affair. Mary seemed to have learned that making enough food to feed a third world country was TOO MUCH food for a three-person family. They ate and talked and John even shared a joke with them. It was so stupid that it was funny.  
  
"Okay," John said. "What is black and white and red all over?"  
  
"A sunburned zebra or a newspaper." Mary said at once and the two of them burst out laughing. Hazel raised one eye brow at them and enjoyed watching them laugh themselves silly. Their laughter finally stopped when they were turning blue and Hazel thumped them on the backs saying "Breathe!"  
  
That night, when Hazel went to bed she automatically scanned the skies for an owl or perhaps something that was flying that shouldn't have been. It had become habit to look into the sky before she did anything else at night. Hazel changed and looked at herself in the mirror. She was still the stringy 15-year-old girl that had a lightning bolt scar and extremely messy hair but now she could add more to the title, the witch in the house of number 7 Privet Drive. The last thing Hazel remembered thinking as she layback down in her bed was about Hogwarts, and wondered how long the train ride there would be.  
  
  
  
Authors Notes:  
  
If you find anything misspelled or wrong in the fan fic at any times please e-mail me at kellyjaneclarkson@hotmail.com and I will try to fix the problem as soon as I possibly can. Also, if there is something that contradicts the books in any way tell me and I'll tell you whether I did that on purpose or not, or whether I was being an idiot. =)  
  
I had no reviews on the second chapter! =( 


	4. Teaser From Chapter 4!

Chapter 4 - The Hogwarts Express  
  
The morning or September 1st Hazel put on the best clothes that she could find in her closet, a red shirt with a dragon flying across it and a pain of jeans. It was better than the Stonewall High grey uniforms that she would have had to wear if she wasn't going to Hogwarts - that was for sure.  
  
Mary, thankfully, hadn't made a breakfast quite as large as the last one she had made and they managed to eat it all for breakfast. But, even so, they were still as full as they could get without exploding when they were finished with the breakfast.  
  
As they piled into the car Hazel noticed that the people down the road in number 4 Privet Drive were getting into a car as well, and they loaded in a trunk and an empty cage that looked like the owl cages she had seen in Diagon Alley, but it must have been coincidence because the inhabitants of number 4 were the most obnoxious people that could ever have walked the planet. Maybe they were going to a trip, but she couldn't see where they could go with that fat boy in their car. He seemed to take up most of the back seat in the car and even so, he seemed to need MORE room. Hazel shook her head as she watched. How someone could eat that much was a mystery to her.  
  
As they drove on Hazel began to notice that Hedwig, the beautiful snowy white owl, was following the car that the fat kid had gotten into. She was flying perfectly with the car and turned exactly with the car. She thought this was odd, but tucked that matter into the back of her mind for later, along with the millions of other questions, ideas, and things in her mind. Her mind was either  
  
Before she knew it, they were at King's Cross Station. As she pulled out her ticket she remembered her problem. How was it possible to get on Platform 9 ¾? It didn't exist, did it?  
  
One of the people that worked at the train station, a trolley boy, shoved a cart in her face and stalked off.  
  
Mary and John hugged her warmly. As John looked at his watch he gasped.  
  
"We have to go honey." He said. "Have a good time at Hogwarts and send us letters, alright?" Then they dashed off to get into the car before they were late for something leaving Hazel stranded in the train station.  
  
Lost. Hazel thought bitterly. I'm Lost.  
  
She began pushing her cart around looking for platforms nine or ten, because 9 ¾ should be somewhere near the middle of the two.  
  
The station was packed with people getting on trains. There was a line for the train to France, and many men were looking at tickets and dashing about trying to find their train. She even saw some people running on the tops of trains, their hats clapped to their heads, and trying desperately to find the correct train. There was thick smog in the air from all of the trains that had come and gone, and not to mention all of the people that were smoking.  
  
Hazel fished her grey bucket hat out of her trunk, before snapping it closed, and rolled her hair up into it so she wouldn't be starred at for her hair.  
  
She looked up and saw Hedwig the owl soaring over her head. She wondered why Hedwig was here, and she wondered whether Hedwig could help her. Maybe.  
  
"Hedwig!" She cooed to the owl, catching her attention. She dug into her pockets and pulled out a packet of owl treats that she had gotten at Diagon Alley. Hedwig soared down to her at once, begging for a treat.  
  
"Hold on," Hazel said, snatching up the owl treats. "You show me how to get onto Platform 9 ¾ then I give you the whole packet. Deal?" The owl hooted in response and began to fly towards Platform 10.  
  
Hazel was now sprinting, with some difficulty due to the fact she was dragging her cart behind her, to keep up with the owl. Hedwig seemed to know her way around here now, because she flew expertly the whole time. Hazel looked down at her feet for a second and when she looked up Hedwig was gone.  
  
Hazel looked up and left and right and about everywhere she could while staying in the same spot.  
  
"Well, she can't have vanished through the wall." Hazel said sarcastically. She sat down on a bench feeling a little discouraged.  
  
Eyes now stinging from the smog floating like clouds around the station, Hazel blinked the tears out of her eyes and snatched her sunglasses from her pocket and slipped them on. They protected her eyes from some of the smog, but not all of it.  
  
Hazel looked desperately at her watch. It was 10:57 and if she didn't figure out how to get on the train soon, she would miss it, and miss her chance to learn more magic, and to find out about her past, to find out about her parents. To find out about who she really was.  
  
"Come along Ronald." Said a motherly voice. Hazel jumped. "You first."  
  
"Aw, Mum! Don't be a spoil sport! Let the really-" a red-haired boy began.  
  
"Extremely-" another boy said. He looked exactly like the first.  
  
"Super-"  
  
"Um, duper-"  
  
"Superstar go first!"  
  
"Why would I do that, Fred?" The mother-like figure asked.  
  
"Because, he's Harry Potter." 


	5. The Hogwarts Express

Chapter 4 - The Hogwarts Express  
  
The morning or September 1st Hazel put on the best clothes that she could find in her closet, a red shirt with a dragon flying across it and a pain of jeans. It was better than the Stonewall High grey uniforms that she would have had to wear if she wasn't going to Hogwarts - that was for sure. Actually, anything was better than the Stonewall High uniforms.  
  
Mary, thankfully, hadn't made a breakfast quite as large as the last one she had made and they managed to eat it all for breakfast and not for any other meal. But, even so, they were still as full as they could get without exploding when they were finished with the breakfast. Pancakes, waffles, fruit, orange juice, grape juice, jam, jelly, and cocoa weren't a small breakfast by any means.  
  
Hazel ran frantically around the house making sure she hadn't forgot to pack anything. Being 1,000 miles away from home meant that Mary or John couldn't just drive something over if she forgot it. Actually, she didn't think that anyone could drive her something. It seemed to Hazel that the castle was anti-muggled or something.  
  
"Whatever." Hazel muttered.  
  
As they piled into the car Hazel noticed that the people down the road in number 4 Privet Drive were getting into a car as well, and they loaded in a trunk and an empty cage that looked like the owl cages she had seen in Diagon Alley, but it must have been coincidence because the inhabitants of number 4 were the most obnoxious people that could ever have walked the planet. There were only three of them and they were all out of proportion. Two of them were far too wide to be normal and the woman was far, far too thin to be healthy and the woman was nosy. She was always peaking out of the window. The other two could be found, every day without without fail, sitting in the kitchen, watching TV, and making frequent stops to the refrigerator and the pantry to replenish their stock on the table. Maybe they were going to a trip, but she couldn't see where they could go with that fat boy in their car. He seemed to take up most of the back seat in the car and even so, he seemed to need MORE room. Hazel shook her head as she watched. How someone could eat that much was a mystery to her.  
  
As they drove on Hazel began to notice that Hedwig, the beautiful snowy white owl, was following the car that the fat kid had gotten into. She was flying perfectly with the car and turned exactly with the car. She thought this was odd, but tucked that matter into the back of her mind for later, along with the millions of other questions, ideas, and things in her mind. Her mind was either stuffed to the maximum capacity or so empty that it seemed to buzz.  
  
Before she knew it, they were at King's Cross Station. As she pulled out her ticket she remembered her problem. How was it possible to get on Platform 9 ¾? It didn't exist, did it? How could there be ¾ of a platform? Would there then be ¾ of a train to meet her at ¾ of a platform?  
  
Okay, stop asking questions. Hazel told herself. It does no good.  
  
One of the people that worked at the train station, a trolley boy, shoved a cart in her face and stalked off. Hazel stood stunned for a minute and she slowly started rubbing her sore ribs.  
  
Mary and John hugged her warmly. As John looked at his watch he gasped.  
  
"We have to go honey." He said quickly. "Have a good time at Hogwarts and send us letters, alright?" Then they dashed off together to get into the car before they were late for something, leaving Hazel stranded in the train station. Hazel stood there and contemplated what had just happened. Why did people always ignore her? That or ditch her.  
  
Lost. Hazel thought bitterly. I'm Lost.  
  
She began pushing her cart around looking for platforms nine or ten, because 9 ¾ should be somewhere near the middle of the two. That much she knew, and that was about all she knew.  
  
The station was packed with people getting on trains. There was a line for the train to France, and many men were looking at tickets and dashing about trying to find their train. Women were shushing their babies and some workers were trying to drive golf carts through the mass mob of people. Children were screaming that they wanted ice cream or candies. She even saw some people running on the tops of trains, their hats clapped to their heads, and trying desperately to find the correct train, which, Hazel reflected, must have been hard because the train's numbers were written on the side of the trains. There was thick smog in the air from all of the trains that had come and gone, and not to mention all of the people that were smoking.  
  
Hazel fished her grey bucket hat out of her trunk, before snapping it closed, and rolled her hair up into it so she wouldn't be starred at for her too long hair. She realized that there were not very many people that had four-foot long hair.  
  
She looked up and saw Hedwig the owl soaring over her head. It was the first being that she had recognized in the whole train station. She wondered why Hedwig was here, and she wondered whether Hedwig could help her. Maybe. Maybe.  
  
"Hedwig!" She cooed to the owl, catching her attention. She dug into her pockets and pulled out a packet of owl treats that she had gotten at Diagon Alley. Hedwig soared down to her at once, begging for a treat.  
  
"Hold on," Hazel said, snatching up the owl treats from the inside of her trunk. "You show me how to get onto Platform 9 ¾ then I give you the whole packet. Deal?" The owl hooted in response and began to fly towards Platform 10.  
  
No, not platform 10. Platform 9 ¾!! Hazel screamed in her mind.  
  
Hazel was now sprinting; with some difficulty due to the fact she was dragging her cart behind her, to keep up with the owl. The cart was click clacking on every concrete seam as she ran. Hedwig seemed to know her way around here now, because she flew expertly the whole time, and didn't seem to need to take any time to look around. Hazel looked down at her feet for a second, to make sure she wasn't going to slip and fall, and when she looked up Hedwig was gone.  
  
Hazel looked up and left and right and about everywhere she could while staying in the same spot. But Hedwig wasn't in sight. She seemed to just be gone. Simply out of the universe.  
  
"Well, she can't have vanished through the wall." Hazel said sarcastically. She sat down on a bench feeling a little discouraged.  
  
"Maybe she's in an alternate universe." Hazel joked, as she felt more discouraged than she ever could have felt before she had followed Hedwig on some wild goose - or owl - chase.  
  
Eyes now stinging from the smog floating like clouds around the station, Hazel blinked the tears out of her eyes and snatched her sunglasses from her pocket and slipped them on. They protected her eyes from some of the smog, but not all of it. Not even close to all of it. But at least she could see now.  
  
Hazel looked desperately at her watch. It was 10:57 and if she didn't figure out how to get on the train soon, she would miss it, and miss her chance to learn more magic, and to find out about her past, to find out about her parents. To find out about who she really was.  
  
"Come along Ronald." Said a motherly voice. Hazel jumped. "You first."  
  
"Aw, Mum! Don't be a spoilsport! Let the really-" a red-haired boy began.  
  
"Extremely-" another boy said. He looked exactly like the first.  
  
"Super-"  
  
"Um, duper-"  
  
"Superstar go first!" The last boy finished. He had an evil grin on his face the perfectly matched the grin of the boy next to him.  
  
"Who would I do that to, Fred? Any why?" The mother-like figure asked. She was pleasantly plump and she looked like a nice woman, but at the moment she looked slightly angry.  
  
"Because, he's Harry Potter."  
  
Hazel had to clap her hand to her mouth to keep from almost yelling. Feeling faint, Hazel staggered over to a wall and leaned against it. That woman COULDN'T have said, 'Harry Potter', because it just wasn't possible. There was no Harry Potter.  
  
There IS NO Harry Potter, it's just a coincidence that there is a boy with the same last name and the fact that the people that she had seen when she had been stuck in the wall had said Hazel and Harry Potter, and -  
  
Hazel gave up trying to reason with herself, because she was losing. There was no way that she could deny the fact that there really did seem to be a boy named Harry Potter, and she couldn't deny that Potter wasn't a common last name. Hazel craned her neck trying to see if she could catch a glimpse of the boy, but all she could see was a sea of red hair and freckles.  
  
Besides, Hazel reasoned, up until a few weeks ago, Hazel Potter didn't exist as far as she was concerned.  
  
Sighing, Hazel remembered the predicament she still had. How DID you get onto the platform? As she stood, watching, she watched one of the boys start driving his trolley towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Hazel watched him, waiting to see the moment when the trolley would meet the solid panel of wall, but there was never a sickening thud or even a yell and all she saw was the boy disappear. Hazel wrinkled her brow and thought it over for a minute.  
  
"Of course," Hazel whispered. "Platform 9 ¾ . . ." Hazel remained hidden until all of the red haired people had gone and then she herself went, very cautiously, through the barrier which she soon realized wasn't very easy because it was hard not to notice someone going through a barrier.  
  
There wasn't even a slight feeling in her body as she went through the barrier, but the disembodied feeling left seconds after she had come out of the barrier and in front of her now was, instead of a brick wall, a giant scarlet steam engine that said in silver lettering, The Hogwarts Express.  
  
Nervously Hazel pushed her sunglasses up her nose as she walked towards the men that were taking luggage from students.  
  
"Excuse me, Sir, where do you want me to take my stuff?" Hazel asked, even though she could see them chucking piles of luggage into the train.  
  
"Right here," the man said as he roughly grabbed and then threw her luggage in a pile.  
  
"Thanks for breaking all of my stuff," Hazel muttered as she walked away. Everything was confusing her and she didn't know how much more she could learn before she couldn't take in any more information. Maybe she would go insane at 15 and set a world record for being the first teenager to go completely batty.  
  
Everything was happening at such a rate that she couldn't take it much longer. Hazel wanted to just crawl away and hide from everything - magic, Voldemort, her true identity and especially the weird visions she'd been seeing both in her dreams and in that wall at Diagon Alley.  
  
Hazel walked into the last car and began the long search for a place to sit. There were people that didn't look inviting to sit with, and there were some people that seemed as if they would kill her if she were to disturb them now. As she reached the last car in the train she looked in the window and she saw a red-haired boy and a bushy-haired girl that looked like Hermione. They were both pulling a hood over a third boy and she couldn't see who he was. She was about to reach over and open the door when-  
  
"HEY! I haven't seen you around here. Who are you? I'm Paravati Patil. Would you like to sit with me and my few friends?" Before Hazel had time to answer she was being lead - or rather, drug - down the many cars and pulled into a compartment.  
  
It turned out that a 'few friends' was the understatement of the century. There were at least 20 girls crammed in the small, five person compartment. Hazel took a small gasp and was thankful for the fact that she wasn't claustrophobic.  
  
"HEY!" Paravati yelled into the crowd. "THIS IS A NEW STUDENT AND THIS IS THE NEWEST MEMBER OF WITCHLY GIRLS WEEKLY!" The sea of girls screamed and began showering Hazel with presents. Handkerchiefs, necklaces, bracelets, rings, headscarves, tiaras, and even someone's shirt. A large something cascaded down onto her head and Hazel staggered, trying to regain her balance. Blinking, Hazel looked around for her attacker and found a sneering face inches away from hers.  
  
"So, is it true?" the boy asked. He had silvery blonde hair and a pointed face. He was grinning maliciously at her and she didn't like the look in his eyes.  
  
"Is what true?" Hazel asked scornfully as she rubbed her now sore head. He hit hard.  
  
"That you're another Mudblood here to scum up the school." Hazel frowned slightly. Mudblood. the word seemed familiar to her but she wasn't sure where she had heard the word before. There was an instant uproar of words in the compartment though. About three girls were rolling up their sleeves threateningly and many others were glaring angrily at the boy. Something about the way he looked made her think of his name.  
  
"No. I'm not a 'mudblood'." Hazel said sweetly. Pretending to be nice.  
  
"Good. Then what are you?" He asked angrily as he glared at her.  
  
"Well, I'm not quite sure, but I CAN tell you what I'm not. I'm not a 'mudblood', I'm not a Jerk, and I'm most definitely not a Malfoy. Who would want to be a Malfoy anyway?"  
  
His eyes narrowed and he took a step back to size her up. He looked over her and, if possible, his eyes narrowed even less.  
  
"I don't like your cheek."  
  
Hazel laughed derisively. "MY cheek? Ha. You should talk." With one last sneer the boy left and nearly half of the girls in the compartment were regarding Hazel with a wary eye.  
  
"WHAT?" Hazel said and she didn't even try to hide the annoyance in her voice.  
  
"You're NOT a new student, are you? I mean, you knew Draco Malfoy and you knew what a Mudblood was and - and - " Hazel could tell that Paravati was searching desperately for some reason to suspect that she wasn't new and she was failing miserably.  
  
"Oh, well, I had this information page sent to me," Hazel lied quickly. "And - uh - there was one letter from a student in each house - ya'know, Gryffindor and Slytherin - and so I got tips from someone in each house and I was warned in all of the letters about Draco Malfoy and he was described, so, yeah. . ." This excuse seemed to work for all of the girls except one girl that had fiery red hair.  
  
"What?" Hazel whispered to her as the rest of the girls got back to talking of the hot guy of the week which Hazel suspected really did change every week,  
  
"You look like someone else that I know." The girl said slowly. "But I can't quite figure out who."  
  
Oh my god, Hazel thought, she knows, She knows that I am Harry's twin. I hope he doesn't go here.  
  
"Listen," Hazel hissed. "Come outside and I'll talk to you, but not in here." The girl nodded slowly and reluctantly and followed her out of the compartment. She kept looking back as if she was expecting everyone to come back out with them.  
  
"Okay, so, who, exactly, do I look like?" Hazel said suddenly after a short silence.  
  
"Well. . ." the girl said. She thought for a minute or two and then she "You look like a guy named Harry - " Hazel gasped.  
  
"-Potter," the girl finished. The girl looked her over a few times and then pulled off her sunglasses and hat. Hazel knew that the girl was putting two and two together. "Okay, this is too weird. Who ARE you? Tell me now," the girl said threateningly and she pulled out her wand.  
  
"Don't make me do it. Don't." Hazel backed away slowly as though she were a rogue tiger.  
  
"I'm Hazel - " Hazel didn't know what to say. Should she tell this girl her real name?  
  
"Hazel what?" Hazel whipped around making sure that there wasn't anyone else around.  
  
"How do I know that I can trust you?" the girl looked startled.  
  
"My name's Ginny Weasley. That's all you need to know. All I need to know is your whole name as well. I gave you mine, you give me yours. Okay?" Hazel considered what she was going to say next.  
  
That name, Hazel thought. I have heard it before, but how? Hazel specifically felt her stomach turn upside down and her mind became empty of everything except a dull buzzing noise. Hazel's feelings must have showed on her face because Ginny asked her if something was wrong.  
  
"I-I know this sounds strange, but I've heard your name before. It's like I've lived another life before, but it's, like, through a dream or something. It's like I've seen this," Hazel gestured around to her. "Before. And, I know this doesn't make sense, but," Hazel paused. "I think I know you."  
  
"But how do you-are you a psychic or a psycho?" Hazel felt too panic- stricken to laugh. She was about to say something when she heard loud bangs and the train suddenly seemed to stop. It jolted so suddenly that she was thrown around the hall. She wildly looked around for Ginny or anyone that she knew but she couldn't see anyone she recognized. She heard laughing and she turned to look in the compartment that it was coming from.  
  
~~~~  
  
"C'mon Sirius, you CAN'T be serious!" one boy was laughing. Hazel felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. Had he said Sirius? As in Sirius Black? And that boy looked like the sandy-haired man (she noticed as she peeked into the compartment's window) that she had seen - but with less grey hairs and worry lines - in the vision as Hagrid had pulled her out of the wall in Diagon Alley. Could these people be the same people?  
  
Hazel tried to slide open the door, but her hand went through the door. Hazel pulled her hand out and tried again to open the door. Her hand slid through the door once more. Slowly and skeptically, Hazel walked through the compartment door into the compartment where five people sat and surprisingly enough, they all looked like the people she had seen before when she had been stuck in the wall at Diagon Alley.  
  
"You CAN'T be serious, Sirius." The sandy-haired boy said. "You mean to tell me that Snape has the hots for Lily, THAT Lily?" he said, gesturing wildly towards the fiery redhead next to him. Sirius's grin couldn't have been bigger.  
  
"Woah, woah, woah!" James said. "No slimy haired grease ball is getting Lily." James said protectively at the same time that the red haired girl, Lily, said,  
  
"It couldn't be me. Besides, what kind of idiot do you think I'd have to be to like Severus?"  
  
"If Snape wants her, he's gonna have to go through ME." James said loudly and boldly. He sounded so stupid when he said it though that the other four members of the compartment, not counting Hazel, burst out with laughter.  
  
Lily laughed the hardest. "Oh, James, you know I'd NEVER, EVER go out with Severus-"  
  
"Snape." James automatically corrected her.  
  
"Whatever. The point is, that you're the only guy that likes me." Lily said pointedly. "Or at least it's you're the only guy that likes me that I like."  
  
"Yea," Sirius muttered in what he thought was a quiet voice, but obviously wasn't. "And the only guy who is thick enough to put up with her ranting."  
  
"I heard that, Sirius." A devious smile lit up Lily's face. "Or, should I say Padfoot?" All four of the boys in the compartment looked alarmed and before Hazel could hear what they were going to say next the compartment faded and she found herself sitting in the same compartment as Hermione and two other boys. All three of their lines of vision were locked on her.  
  
"Uh, hi! Just - um - dropping in!" Hazel said as she fled for the door. She hoped Hermione wouldn't recognize her with her hat and sunglasses on.  
  
"Wait!" One of the boys said. "You can stay here." He reached out and took her hand to help her up. She looked at the speaker. He had bright green eyes, unruly black hair, steel, black-rimmed glasses, and he was really skinny and - he looked like HER. Hazel instantly drew back her hand from his grip as though she had been electrically shocked. How was it possible for someone to look like. . .her. . .? The boy looked at his hand and let out a small gasp.  
  
Slowly, Hazel looked at her hand too. There was a perfect crescent moon imprinted on her hand and it was glowing like the cheap glow-in-the- dark chalk that Mary and John had bought for her when she was little. Hazel quickly shoved her hand in her pocket and stood up.  
  
"Nicemeetingyou.Ihavetogo,I'llseeyouatschool.Bye." Hazel said this all very fast and she was sure that she looked guilty. She knew she was being rude but she was frightened. How many people ever meet someone that looks exactly like them and then when they touch it leaves a freakish, glowing residue on your hand that you don't even recognize.  
  
Hazel sprinted down the hall of the train trying to find somewhere to hide until they made it to the train station. Hazel, not looking where she was going, ran smack into someone with a heart-sickening thud.  
  
"Oh my God, are you okay?" Hazel asked the person who groggily murmured an answer.  
  
"What happened?" The boy asked thickly.  
  
"I ran into you. I'm sorry, are you gonna be alright?" Hazel persisted. It would be just her luck if she happened to give some kid a concussion the day before school and classes started. Then she could be hauled somewhere for her motives to be questioned. Yea, she'd make lots of friends that way.  
  
"Um, I think I'll be alright if you pay me back." The boy said in the same thick voice. Hazel blinked and looked at the boy as if he was nuts.  
  
"Ex-excuse me?" Hazel said. Even she heard the loud note of surprise in her voice.  
  
"I'll be alright if you go out with me to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmead when we go there in two weekends."  
  
"And." Hazel said, trying to stall for time to think of what to say next. "What if I don't?"  
  
"Then you miss a very nice date with a good-looking date and I'll report you to Dumbledore and Snape."  
  
"Done deal." When he mentioned Snape, he didn't need to say anything else. So what if it was only one date? After that, she'd be home free and everything would be back to normal.  
  
The boy grinned.  
  
"The name's Flak." He said. "And my favorite number is 30. My girls are expected to pay for anything and everything that they want and they must sign a contract." Hazel blinked, her brain a little slow on the uptake. This Flak guy talked so fast that all of the words seemed to be strung together into one, complicated word.  
  
"Oh-" Flak continued as though he had just remembered something, which he had.  
  
"And on no accounts are my sleeves to be touched, okay?"  
  
Interesting request, Hazel thought.  
  
"Um, okay, whatever," Hazel said slowly.  
  
"Great." Then Flak started to walk off but decided against it and kissed her cheek. "Later, babe." Hazel waited until he walked away before she started frantically rubbing her cheek with her hand.  
  
"Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!" Hazel whined as she continued to rub her cheek. Panic stricken, Hazel spit in her hand and continued to rub her face.  
  
"I got kissed, by a guy, that is really freaky, AND HE'S A SLYTHERIN." Hazel shivered at the thought. Why had he told her all of those odd things though? Why did it matter what his favorite number was or that his sleeve wasn't to be moved?  
  
"Whatever," Hazel said. "After the worst Hogsmead weekend ever it'll be over."  
  
"And, like, then, like he said, like, 'hey babe' and I was, like, hey dude, and like, he like, said like, well, yo, I'll see ya around, and like, I like almost like fainted!" Paravati's friend finished saying. Hazel sat near the window staring out it and trying to ignore the conversation going on next to her, which wasn't that, hard. When the 'sentence enhancer' "like" is used it's not hard to lose the meaning of the sentence three or four "likes" into it. Hazel had begun measuring the length of their conversations in "LN's" or "Like Numbers".  
  
"Like, oh my gosh!" another girl squealed.  
  
"Ugh," Hazel moaned as she pulled her hat down over her ears farther.  
  
Once again the train jerked, but this time it was for real. The train pulled up to a station and Hazel checked her watch. It said it was ten o'clock, which meant she had been on the train for eleven hours.  
  
"Yeesh." Hazel said to herself as she followed the crowd of mass confusion towards some carriages that looked as though the needed horses, but there weren't any horses in sight.  
  
"Hmm." before Hazel could think much more she was drug into a carriage with Paravati, Lavender, and Ginny.  
  
"Have you seen how cute Dean is becoming?" Lavender gushed. And that was the start of the worst carriage ride Hazel had ever had. As her mind began to wander from the conversation at hand to other matters, Hazel completely lost conciseness of what was happening around her.  
  
Slowly, a pink mist began to creep up Hazel's feet and started winding around her ankles. Hazel continued to watch the mist creep up her body and smiled slightly. A new adventure, maybe it'd give her enough power to conquer the free world and then she could explore alternate universes. The sense of power was enlightening.  
  
The mist continued to creep up her body and it was about at her waist when her conscience kicked in. What if this was a bad thing? What if she would lose consciousness and never be able to come back or what if she was dying and she wasn't even trying not to.  
  
Instead of fighting against the mist as Hazel wanted to, she found that she couldn't control anything except her mind and even that was becoming a burden. She found it harder and harder to think the thoughts that she wanted to and more and more of her thoughts became thoughts of death and killing. Suddenly, everyone in the carriage didn't deserve to live. They were burdens to the world, and they contributed nothing to the wizarding world. They must be diminished.  
  
Hazel felt herself pull out her wand and when she was sure that things would be happening completely the wrong way and she would end up in Azkaban for killing the other three girls, the pink mist started to recede and fade out.  
  
Breathing a sigh of relief both from the receding mist and the realization that she could control herself and her mind once again, Hazel pocketed her wand. That was the last thing she wanted to have to explain.  
  
As the carriages pulled up to the sweeping front lawn of the Hogwarts castle all of the students began piling out and Hazel got the first look of how many people there really would be. Hundreds of students were slowly marching towards the grand staircase the led to the Entrance Hall.  
  
Hazel gave up trying to count the people when, every three minutes, she was interrupted by chattering from Paravati, Lavender, and their "gang". Hazel was still trying to figure out what they'd said ten minutes ago. When she tried to listen to them they seemed to be speaking another language.  
  
Hazel lapsed back into silence. It was too hard trying to speak the same language as they were. Hazel began thinking again. Why did she look exactly like that guy in that compartment? Was he Harry? Her brother Harry? How did she even know she still had a brother? Harry could have died years ago, but then that would explain why people were so unwilling to tell her things about Harry.  
  
As she was almost in the school Hazel looked around her and realized that she was the only person that wasn't dressed in the Hogwarts uniform.  
  
"Ugh." Hazel said and at the same time she forced both of her palms down towards the ground and her clothes shifted from the muggle clothes she had been wearing to her Hogwarts uniform. Everything was put on as neatly as a dolls clothes.  
  
"I gotta remember that one." Hazel muttered as she raced to catch up to the girls. If she was going to have to make friends, she figured that she'd have to learn to speak the same language first.  
  
  
  
Authors Notes:  
  
Sorry it's been so long since I last updated! I've been so busy and everything for so long, but now I'm back in action, so expect Chapter 5 in two or three weeks tops.  
  
Thanks for being patient!!!  
  
Saryen 


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